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THE YOUNG SHOWMAN’S PLUCK 






















































































“ Our hero slapped out the flickering tongue of flame with his hat.” 

(See page 55) 



THE YOUNG SHOWMAN’S 
PLUCK 


OR 


An Unknown Rider in the Ring 


BY 

STANLEY NORRIS 

AUTHOR OF 

“Phil, the Showman," “The Young Showman’s Rivals," etc. 



NEW YORK AND LONDON 
STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS 


THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two Copies Reoeived 

IUL 15 1903 

C\ Copyright Entry 
yt 1 (t/V 0 & 

CLASS 0 & XXc. No. 

b U- I ~) k 

COPY B. 

,■■1 i n i 1 rnmiinnr 



Copyright, 1903 
By STREET & SMITH 

The Y oung Showman’s Pluck 


c « ( « • • t * « 

£ « * *■ * 

% c £ t i c « 

• « • • * 

« « « • « t « 





CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PACE 

I — The Attractions Rejected .... 7 

II — The Imp in Fighting Mood . . . 15 

III— A Conflict of Authority .... 22 

IV — The Brahmin Cobra .... 29 

V— A Woman’s Heart 36 

VI — A Woman Scorned . . . . 41 

VII — Foiling a Plot 48 

VIII— Lark Garretson’s Game .... 61 

IX — A Surprise 73 

X — A Runaway 81 

XI — Another Accident 87 

XII — Reddy Vows Vengeance ... 96 

XIII— Caged 107 

XIV— How Francis Became Frances . . 116 

XV — An Experiment 125 

XVI — A Trail of Middlings . . . . 135 

XVII— Links of Evidence 146 

XVIII— The Proofs 153 

XIX — The Back of a “Bucker” . . . .158 


ii CONTENTS 

CMAPTBK *AG* 

XX— The Battle Royal . . . . 1 68 

XXI— Phil Ends the Battle . . . .175 

XXII— A Fight With the Trainer . . . 180 

XXIII— In an Elephant’s Trunk . . .186 

XXIV— In the Tent 193 

XXV — The New Ringmaster .... 199 

XXVI — Isabel’s Queer Actions . . . 205 

XXVII— Phil is Tricked 21 1 

XXVIII — An Extraordinary “Prize” Fight . 215 

XXIX — A Dastardly Deed . . . .221 

XXX— A Victory 226 

XXXI— Off the Track 231 

XXXII— Some Empty Cages .... 237 

XXXIII— Phil “Holds Up” a Train . . .244 

XXXIV — Return of the Snake .... 250 

XXXV — Phil Engages a Giant .... 256 
XXXVI — The Giant and the Tiger . . . 264 

XXXVII — A Thrilling Scene 270 

XXXVIII — The “Nigger’s” Confession . . 275 

XXXIX— The Wrecking Train .... 280 

XL — The Track of the Tiger . . . 288 

XLI— Phil Settles an Old Score . . . 293 

XLII — The Runaway Tiger . . . 299 

XLIII — The Giant — Conclusion . . . 308 


THE YOUNG SHOWMAN’S PLUCK. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE ATTRACTIONS REJECTED. 

"Look out, Rush! He’ll fall! He’ll ” 

Rattle, clatter, crash! 

Half a dozen bottles dropped into the ring, and the 
wiry fellow in bespangled tights, who had been building 
a shaky pyramid of glassware, threw up his arms, fell, 
but landed with a smile and a salute on the huge tumbler 
that formed the base. 

"The climax of the act,” said he from his perch. "What 
do you think of it ?” 

Phil Rushington, the young circus owner, laughed as 
his assistant manager, Walt Arkwright, came back rather 
sheepishly from the ropes to which he had jumped for 
safety. 

"What do you style yourself on the bills, Mr. Snooks ?” 
asked the young showman. 

"Jean Despereaux, the Bottle Imp.” 

"Good. Some of your properties must have gone up 
in that crash ?” 

"Only one bottle, sir. I carry a supply with me, and 
smash one in every climax for effect. The other props 
are unbreakable.” 


8 The Attractions Rejected. 

He got down and began carefully depositing his glass- 
ware in a bushel basket, Phil Rushington eying him nar- 
rowly as he worked. 

“Am I good for a booking?” he asked, when he had 
finished. 

“How does it come that a man with a specialty like 
yours is loose right in the middle of the season?” 

“The sheriff levied on the show I was with, and I got 
stranded.” 

“Ah! and what was the name of that show, Mr. 
Snooks ?” 

The Bottle Imp started to reply, but halted abruptly 
and looked around. 

“I should prefer to have that remain a professional 
secret, Mr. Rushington.” 

“You have applied to me for an engagement,” said 
Phil, firmly, “and it is. right that I should know your 
professional record.” 

“It does not seem to me that that has anything to do 
with the case. You have seen my performance, and I 
am either good, bad, or indifferent. Will you hire me? 
Yes or no?” 

Phil looked the man over thoughtfully. He had a 
shifty eye and a bad face, but his specialty was good. 
Why should he want to keep back any facts in connection 
with his past if there was nothing criminal in it ? 

“You may retire to the dressing-room, Mr. Snooks, and 
get back into your everyday clothes,” said the young circus 
owner. “Wait there, and my assistant manager, Mr. 
Arkwright, will have a talk with you.” 


9 


The Attractions Rejected. 

With a searching glance into the young showman’s face, 
and a half-sullen nod, the Bottle Imp picked up his basket 
of props and passed quickly into the dressing-tent. 

“He’s a crackajack, Rush!” declared Walt Arkwright, 
enthusiastically. “If we sign him, you get a prize.” 

“Granted ! But if he isn’t straight I don’t want him. 
I’m proud of our people, Walt. They all have good 
records, so far as I know, and I don’t want to take any 
one on who is at all doubtful in that respect. Besides, did 
you take note of that fellow’s face?” 

“His eyes are bad.” 

“And so is the rest of his countenance. We mustn’t 
harbor any suspicious character, old man.” 

“But we need some good, strong attractions in the show 
for Tent Two,” returned Walt, who had been thrilled by 
the Bottle Imp’s performance, and earnestly desired to 
add him to the olio. “In this case, we might think him 
honest until he proves himself otherwise, it seems to me.” 

“I don’t like it,” said Phil, “but talk with the fellow 
and do as you think best. If you tie up with him, make 
the engagement contingent on his good behavior, and 
waive the two weeks’ notice clause. We have some one 
else to try this morning, haven’t we?” 

“Yes,” put in Grout, the general utility man, who was 
standing near. “He’s waiting in the menagerie tent.” 

“Bring him in, Grout.” 

The Mossman & Rushington Circus and Hippodrome 
had pitched its tents in the vicinity of a small southern 
town. Preparations were going forward for the parade, 
and Phil Rushington, the sole proprietor, was keeping 


io The Attractions Rejected. 

appointment with two performers who wished to engage 
with him. The first had just been tried. The second was 
now brought in. 

This latter, evidently a Hindoo, wore a gaudy turban, 
a number of brilliant shawls, baggy, silken trousers, and 
sandals which clapped at his heels with every step. Halt- 
ing before Phil, he dropped on his knees and ground his 
forehead into the tanbark. 

“Salam, great chief,” said he, in a voice that was richly 
musical. 

Walt winked at Grout and both began to grin. 

“Salam to you,” answered the young showman, with 
becoming gravity. 

“Your excellency is my father and mother!” 

“Much obliged,” said Phil, beginning to enjoy the situa- 
tion himself. 

“I am come to behold your honorable face, sahib,” pro- 
ceeded the Hindoo. 

“Then get up and behold it,” returned Phil, “and quit 
your groveling. My time is short this morning, and we’ll 
have to dispense with these trimmings. What kind of a 
stunt are you capable of putting up?” 

, The Hindoo arose humbly, and, despite the many folds 
of his apparel, the gracefulness of his form could be 
plainly seen. His feet, also, were small and his hands 
plump and shapely. 

“I, sahib, am Koot Sombali.” He flashed his sharp, 
black eyes about the tent. “Did you engage the Bottle 
Imp, sahib?” 

“Not yet. Why do you ask?” 


II 


The Attractions Rejected. 

“Bismillah ! It is necessary that I should know. I 
will not engage unless he engages/’ 

“No? You have done nothing so far to show that you 
are worth engaging.” 

“I engage when he engages,” went on the Hindoo, “stay 
as long as he stay, go when he goes. Do you agree, 
sahib?” 

“Something curious about this, Rush,” observed Walt, 
in a low tone. “Where do you come from, Koot ?” 

He shook his head, but made no oral response. 

“Well,” said Phil, “it seems our fate to run up against 
mysterious people this morning. Let’s see what you can 
do. Be quick, for I shall be needed presently outside.” 

Drawing a flute-like instrument from the folds of his 
dress, the man began to play a wild, weird melody. The 
first notes were low and of dreamy softness, throbbing 
with all the intensity of Oriental languor and passion. 

“If that’s all there is to his specialty,” whispered Walt, 
“better break off negotiations right here.” 

“Wait,” answered Rush, his shrewd eyes bent steadily 
on the man. 

Just as the piper’s strain began to grow unbearably 
monotonous, two pairs of glittering diamonds were seen 
to sparkle in the folds of his dress at the shoulders, and 
a third pair on the crest of his turban. 

This way and that the diamonds undulated, like twin 
coals of light, mounting higher and higher as the passion- 
ate music increased in volume. At last three Brahmin 
cobras, necks arched like the necks of a swan, hoods out- 
spread, stood up, dancing sinuously in perfect time to 


12 


The Attractions Rejected. 

the wild air. Then, as he played on, the swaying heads 
sank softly back in their covering folds, and the snake 
charmer ceased his strains and tucked the flute in his 
bosom. 

“I can do more, sahib,” he said. 

“Have you drawn those cobras’ fangs?” asked the 
young showman. 

“No, sahib. They are good snakes. A bite from one 
would kill a person in an hour.” 

“Your clothes is no place for them while you are abroad 
on the street.” 

“I know, sahib, but I came prepared to exhibit.” 

“Another star attraction for Tent Tyo,” muttered Walt, 
delightedly. “They’re coming our way in bunches this 
morning, Rush.” 

But Phil shook his head. 

“Will you not engage me, sahib, if you do the Imp?” 
queried the Hindoo, appealingly, interpreting the young 
showman’s gesture as applying to herself. 

“You are not a Plindoo,” declared Rush, “nor are you 
a man. I have no place for a woman disguised as you 
are. I cannot afford to sacrifice the morals of my people 
by introducing such characters among them. I am sorry, 
madam, but this is final.” 

Walt was astounded, and so was Grout ; and the woman, 
too, for that matter. How had Phil been able to pierce 
a disguise that baffled so completely his assistant manager 
and general utility man? Yet, he was entirely correct, as 
was quickly made manifest. 

The woman drew back, her black eyes fairly blazing. 


*3 


The Attractions Rejected. 

“You have found me out, Mr. Rushington, but I care 
no more for this engagement than that.” She snapped her 
fingers. “I’m from Saunders’ show, and so is Despereaux. 
Now, if you want to take him, do so, but I warn you to 
look out for Eona, your Girl Centaur. If he plays me 
false, I will — I will kill them both !” 

Her lips parted from her white teeth, and she fairly 
hissed the last words; then, whirling, she made off 
through the menagerie tent. 

“Saunders again !” exclaimed Walt. 

The word brought with it disagreeable recollections of 
an enemy of Phil Rushington’s — a man who had been in- 
strumental in robbing Phil of capital invested in a dra- 
matic company, and who, more recently, had chased Phil’s 
show into the town of Charlotte, and had ultimately found 
himself behind the bars on account of his lawlessness. 

“A woman’s spite has revealed the information the 
Bottle Imp declined to give us,” said the young circus 
owner, grimly. “Evidently the man is a tool of Saunders, 
and can be here for no good purpose. He’s the kind of a 
prize that would burn my fingers, Walt. We’ll turn him 
down, but just what his purpose is we’ll try to discover 
before we do it. Come on.” 

Walt was disappointed, but the evidence against the 
Imp was altogether too strong. As he and Phil turned 
away to make for the dressing-room, Burt Wister, a so- 
styled tramp performer, hurried in under the canvas. 

“You’re needed out there, Philip,” said he, “and in a 
hurry, too.” 

“What is it, Burt?” queried Phil. 


14 


The Attractions Rejected. 


“Eona is having some trouble, and ” 

The young showman turned quickly to Walt, never 
waiting for Wister to finish. 

“Keep the Imp till I come, Walt,” said he, hurriedly. 
The snake charmer’s words about the Girl Centaur had 
flashed through his mind, and he lost no time in hurrying 
after the tramp impersonator. 


CHAPTER II. 


THE IMP IN FIGHTING MOOD. 

The bind wagon, cage vans, chariots, horses and ele- 
phants were being marshaled for Phil Rushington’s daily 
parade. Drivers were attaching plumes to head stalls, 
unfurling banners, and attending to various other duties 
preparatory to the start. Ever since Phil had taken charge 
of the show, it had steadily grown, until tent Number 
Two — for which Walt was so anxious to secure some 
spectacular attractions to go with the rather limited men- 
agerie — had become a necessity, and was now an accom- 
plished fact. 

Phil and Bert came out of the tent in front of two of 
the cage wagons, the drivers of which had gone to ex- 
change their working clothes for the neat uniforms worn 
during the parade. 

“What did you say was the matter with Eona?” asked 
the young showman. “Nothing serious, I hope.” 

“Not so serious as I hope you’ll give me permission to 
make it,” answered Wister, with a good deal of indigna- 
tion in his voice. “There’s a real Charley-boy hanging 
around Eona, and the girl is very much annoyed. You 
never want any thumping done around the show, so I’ve 
just come to get you and show you how the matter stands. 
If you’ll give me permission, I’ll sail into that dude and 
turn him inside out. From all I can discover, he’s been 
persecuting Eona for several days.” 


16 The Imp in Fighting Mood. 

Phil was greatly relieved to hear this, for he feared 
that something far worse had befallen his charming eques- 
trienne. 

“If there is any thumping to be done, Wister,” said he, 
‘Til do it. Where are they?” 

“Around here,” and Wister led Rush in between the 
two wagons and pointed. 

A few feet from them stood Eona, the Girl Centaur, 
ready for the parade, and holding her horse. 

Eona was not a particularly beautiful girl, but there was 
a charm of manner, a grace of movement, about her that 
made her extremely attractive, and won as much applause 
for her commonplace feats as was accorded to the more 
brilliant Isabel and the more dashing Mamie, her sister 
riders. 

At the present moment Eona’s pale face was flushed, 
and a slender, loudly dressed, effeminate-looking youth 
was speaking to her. Evidently he was impertinent, and 
growing more so the longer he talked. He could not see 
Phil, as his back was to the wagons. Eona, however, saw 
the young showman, and made an almost imperceptible 
start toward him, but he laid a finger on his lips and 
shook his head, thus silently requesting her not to reveal 
his presence. 

Several yards farther on was a tank wagon, at which 
the trainer was watering two gayly caparisoned elephants, 
the animals first filling their trunks and then sending the 
water hissing down their throats. * 

“What’s the reason you can’t care for me, Miss Eona?” 
the dude was saying, while he twirled his little, blond 


*7 


The Imp in Fighting Mood. 

mustache and looked languishingly at the girl through the 
monocle screwed into his left eye. “Ain’t I — er — good- 
looking enough to suit you ?” 

A smile of disdain curled the girl’s lip. 

“Your beauty is extremely fatal,” said she. “It must 
be very depressing to have the girls all chasing after you 
just because of your extreme beauty !” 

“Ah !” minced the poor fool, extremely flattered, “you 
guy me, you guy me! But I must confess, Miss Eona, 
you don’t depress me very much by running after me. 
Do you, now?” 

“I should hope not!” 

“Tell me, Miss Eona — te-hee ! — do you think you could, 
ah, ever learn to care for me?” 

“Never! And I wish you would oblige me by going 
away and leaving me alone. You haunt my steps every 
place I go, and I am getting sick and tired of it.” 

“By Jove, now,” he tittered, “that’s an awfully nice 
thing to say to a fellow like me, ain’t it ? Don’t you know, 
Miss Eona, you’re fitted to shine in a different sphere 
from this? Show business is degrading ” 

“Sir!” 

“Really, now. The class of people you associate with 
here are rough, and low, and ” 

“Enough of this insolence, sir! You must leave these 
grounds at once, and if you ever dare to speak to me again 
you will regret it.” 

As she spoke, Eona drew her slender figure to its full 
height, gripped the handle of her whip convulsively, and 
turned her angry eyes full upon his face. 


1 8 The Imp in Fighting Mood. 

“Oh, but you’re a beauty,” bubbled the dude. “But you 
don’t want to get rid of me, you know you don’t. I could 
tell you something that would make you tremble, Miss 
Eona, tremble for your life ! Think of that ! You are in 
danger, awful danger, but I can save you; yes, I! I’ll 
make a bargain with you, Miss Eona — you give me a kiss, 
and I’ll — te-hee! — tell you my secret. Come, now.” 

Eona was choking with rage, and could hardly speak. 
.She stood rigid as a statue. He stepped toward her 
briskly, with the evident intention of putting his purpose 

into effect, and then Her whip cut across his face at 

just the same instant Phil plucked him by the collar and 
hurled him backward to the ground. 

Between the whip and the unexpected attack from be- 
hind, the dude was dazed* and looked in a bewildered 
way from Phil to Wister, and then to Eona. As his feeble 
wits began to comprehend the situation, he got real angry. 

“What do you mean,” he cried, springing up and shak- 
ing his fist at Phil, “by treating me like this? You struck 
me; yes, you did, you know you did. My papa will fix 
you for that ! You’ll see what’s going to happen.” 

“You insolent young puppy!” exclaimed Phil, holding 
the weak-minded youth in too much contempt to follow 
up the work and give him the chastisement he so richly 
deserved. “If you don’t leave that young lady alone in 
future, and quit pestering her with your impudent talk, 
there’ll be weeds on your papa’s hat.” 

“Don’t you talk to me !” cried the dude, picking up his 
hat and cane and waving the latter in the air. “Don’t 


The Imp in Fighting Mood. 19 

you dare to guy me ! If you do, I’ll come over there and 
give you a poke! Now, then.” 

“Oh, mamma !” simpered Wister. 

“You get out of here !” cried Phil. 

“I won’t. When I’m mad I’m awful savage, so you 
better take care.” 

“Will you get out of here ?” continued Phil, advancing 
a step toward him. 

“Lay a hand on me ! I dare you to lay a hand on me !” 

The young showman could have picked him up bodily 
and hurled him halfway to the road, but he hesitated to 
lay hands on such an insignificant specimen of the genus 
homo. He remembered the well-known saying that “A 
dandy is an individual who would be a lady if he could, 
but, as he can’t, he does all he can to show the world he’s 
not a man.” 

“Don’t bother with him, Philip,” said Eona. “He’s not 
worth your notice. He’s harmless, too, but even a fly can 
be annoying.” 

“Will you go?” again asked Phil. 

“When I get ready,” was the lofty reply, “and not be- 
fore.” 

He looked very sweet and haughty, leaning on his little 
cane, hat on the back of his head, showing his blond hair, 
parted in the middle, and one hand thrust into the bosom 
of his blood-red vest. 

“Oh, Moses!” groaned Wister. “What things you do 
see when you haven’t got a gun. If I catch it, Phil, will 
you put it in a cage all by itself?” 


20 


The Imp in Fighting Mood. 

“I’m not so big a fool as you take me for!” declared 
the masher. 

“You couldn’t be,” averred Wister. 

At this juncture the elephant, Ellen, switched her pro- 
boscis out of the tank wagon and turned around. A mo- 
ment later she had emptied a trunkful of water over the 
dude, the stream striking him full on the breast of his 
noisy shirt and sending him end over end with a splutter- 
ing wail for help. 

As he struggled up, dripping, and all the starch taken 
out of him, the other elephant let go with a second bucket- 
ful, and the Charley-boy turned and fled madly for dear 
life, followed by the delighted hoots of every one who had 
witnessed the rencontre. Isabel, the star rider, and 
Mamie, the Irish girl, had ridden up by this time, and 
they enjoyed the situation hugely. Eona, rarely demon- 
strative, suffered a faint smile to overspread her pale face 
as Wister assisted her to mount. 

“Sure, an’ it sarved him roight!” exclaimed Mamie. 
“He’s been followin’ Eona around iver since we left Char- 
lotte an’ makin’ her loife a burden. Bad cess to th’ spal- 
peen, say Oi. Small loss av ye’d broken his neck, Rushy.” 

“I couldn’t resist the temptation, Mr. Rushington,” said 
the trainer. “It was I who put the bulls up to that.” 

“That was a good place for the water,” laughed Phil, 
“and if the dude didn’t get quite all that was coming to 
him, he certainly got enough. This man has been follow- 
ing you for some time, has he, Eona ?” 

“Yes,” she answered, in a low tone. 

“You should have told me of it. It is not necessary 


21 


The Imp in Fighting Mood. 

for any one in this show to be so annoyed. Please re- 
member that in future. All ready, Mr. Grout?” 

‘‘Yes,” answered Grout, who had come up, leading the 
handsome horse Phil always rode in the parade and in the 
ring. 

“Very well. It’s high time we were started.” 

As Phil turned to mount, he heard a shout behind him, 
and whirled to see Despereaux sprinting out under the 
looped-up side of the dressing-tent, followed by Walt. 

At sight of the man a look of wild alarm overspread 
Eona’s face, and she gave voice to a startled cry and nearly 
fell from her horse. 

“Head him off, Phil!” shouted Walt. “Don’t let him 
escape.” 

Barely had Walt cried out this alarm when he stumbled 
over a tent rope and was thrown headlong. Despereaux 
was in the angle formed by the main tent and the dressing- 
tent. The other side of the square was barred by the ele- 
phants, and the wagons and Phil were directly in front. 

“Stop !” shouted the young circus owner, making ready 
for a flying tackle with the Imp. 

“Out of my way!” commanded the latter, hoarsely. 

Seeing that Phil’s intentions were of the most hostile 
kind, the Imp halted to pick up a long-handled sledge that 
lay in his path. 

Whirling this about his head, he ran on toward Phil. 


CHAPTER III. 


A CONFLICT OF AUTHORITY. 

If ever desperation was reflected in a man’s eyes, it 
shone in the murky, bullet-like orbs of the Imp at that 
moment. 

But Phil stood his ground, despite the frightened cries 
of the women and the warning shouts of the men. 

“He’s a perfect fiend !” shouted Grout. “Let him go !” 

“It isn’t worth the risk, Phil,” added Walt, picking 
himself up and hurrying forward, an iron-bound tent stake 
in his hand. “He’ll kill you.” 

“Back, Rushy, back!” entreated Mamie, the rider. 
“Ye’ve enough b’ys here to do the thrick without takin’ 
chances yersilf.” 

“Phil !” entreated Isabel, the star, clutching her hands 
in wild affright. 

Quickly as he could, the trainer spoke sharp words of 
command to the elephant, Ellen, and the unwieldy brute 
turned and started toward the murderous Imp at the same 
moment that the mounted ring performers set spurs to 
their horses and started in the same direction. 

But Phil was not the one to delegate to subordinates 
the use of force. He esteemed that to be his prerogative. 
Knowing that neither elephants nor horsemen could reach 
the Imp in time to prevent a struggle, he drew his well- 
knit frame together, fixed his eyes on those of the ap- 


A Conflict of Authority. 23 

proaching enemy, and prepared to dodge the sledge and 
close with him. 

Just as Phil prepared to duck down and come up under 
the whirling hammer, the iron head flew off, whizzing 
past within an inch of his face. The Imp’s momentum, 
thus suddenly released from the weight which balanced 
it, turned him half around and all but threw him from his 
feet. Here was an opening, and Phil was not slow in 
taking advantage of it. Dashing at Despereaux, he 
gripped him by both shoulders, from behind, lifted a knee 
into the small of his back, and pulled him slowly down- 
ward to the earth. At the proper moment, Phil whirled 
himself over to his assailant’s chest and had him helpless. 

“Neatly done !” exclaimed the admiring Grout. 

“It reminds me of the old days,” chuckled Walt. “It 
takes the show business to keep a fellow in training.” 

“Get off of me!” growled the Imp through his teeth. 
“I come on here to engage with you, and you not only 
turn me down/ but try to make a prisoner out of me. 
What’s your game, anyhow? Somebody will suffer for 
this outrage before I am done with it.” 

“And you’ll be the one to suffer, Despereaux, I’m think- 
ing,” said Phil. “What did the fellow do, Walt?” 

“I asked him to wait and speak with you,” answered 
Walt, “and he seemed willing to do it, at first. Then, all 
at once, he said he had business elsewhere and couldn’t 
wait until after the parade. I said he’d have to wait, and 
tried to keep him, but he plunged past me. He’s here 
for no good purpose, and now is a good time to sound him 
as to his intentions.” 


24 


A Conflict of Authority. 


“You take my place in the parade, Walt, and leave me 
with him for a while.” 

“Won’t you need help?” 

“If he needs help, by jingo, I’m here! You can’t take 
this thing in your own hands. Why didn’t you call me 
before ?” 

“With this remark, a portly, roughly-dressed individual, 
wearing a star of large dimensions on the breast of his 
coat, stepped from between two of the vans. 

His name was Lark Garretson, and he was the entire 
police force of the town. But he was more than that, 
being dog warden, fire marshal, inspector of roads, and 
any other thing that came his way, and had a dollar in it. 

When the Rushington show reached town, he met it at 
the station, followed it to the grounds, and stirred not a 
step from the vicinity of the tents. In every way that he 
possibly could he made himself obnoxious, hoping that his 
good will, which was for sale, would be well paid for by 
the young showman. 

Under ordinary circumstances, Phil might have 
“tipped” the fellow, but his officiousness and petty tyr- 
anny aroused a certain amount of antagonism, so that 
the young showman gave orders that Pooh-Bah, as he 
came to be dubbed, should receive nothing. This treat- 
ment rankled in Garretson’s breast and made him more 
obnoxious than ever. 

“I didn’t call you,” said Phil, “because I didn’t need 
you.” 


A Conflict of Authority. 25 

“Oh, you didn’t! Has that man broken any of the 
ordinances of this town?” 

“Not that I know of.” 

“Then what are you treating him that way for?” 

“Because he came at me with a sledge hammer.” 

“That makes it assault and battery. Do you want to 
prefer charges ?” 

“No,” said Phil, getting up and allowing the Imp to 
rise. 

“Then it looks as though you were making a mountain 
out of a molehill.” 

“The peace of the town not being threatened, Mr. Gar- 
retson,” said Phil, “you will not be needed.” 

“I’m goin’ to stay right here, by jing, and see that the 
peace don’t get threatened.” 

Phil knew he had no case against the Imp. What he 
wished to do was to wring some sort of a confession from 
the fellow, for he felt, in his heart, that he was the agent 
of Joseph Q. Saunders, and bent <?n working evil. Had 
Garretson been agreeably inclined, he might have ex- 
plained the situation to him and had his help. Consider- 
ing the policeman’s stand, however, that was out of the 
question. 

“The man can go,” said Phil, “but I want you to under- 
stand, Garretson, that I have leased these grounds, and 
that they belong to me, for the time being, as entirely 
as though I held them in fee simple. You are here to 
preserve order, and if I see fit to command a person to 


26 


A Conflict of Authority. 


leave these grounds, and he refuses, it is my right to call 
on you to eject him.” 

“Well, what does all this fol-de-rol amount to, any- 
way?” 

“Just this : That man must leave the vicinity of this 
show and stay away. If he does not go, you will see that 
my wishes are enforced. Do you understand ?” 

“I take no orders from you, sir.” 

“Then I will appeal to the mayor.” 

“The mayor’s out of town on a hunt.” 

“Then I will take the matter to the mayor’s deputy.” 

“I am the mayor’s deputy. As acting mayor, I uphold 
myself as chief of police. Now, what you goin’ to do?” 

Garretson became insolent. 

“Will you leave these grounds, Despereaux ?” demanded 
Phil, turning upon the Imp, who stood scowling near at 
hand. 

Thinking he had the law with him, the Imp grew de- 
fiant. 

“I won’t leave the place till I get good and ready,” he 
growled. 

This answer was similar to the one returned by the 
dude, a few moments previous, but Phil did not hang back 
now, as he did then. Making a jump for the Imp, he 
grabbed him by the coat collar and jerked him toward 
the road. 

“Stop that !” roared Garretson. 

“If Pooh-Bah tries to interfere, Walt,” cried Phil, “you 
and Grout and Wister lay hands on him. Remember, he 


A Conflict of Authority. 27 

stands for the majesty of the law, so don’t hurt him. 
Just hold him, that’s all.” 

Nothing could please Walt better than these instruc- 
tions, so while he and his two companions held the roaring 
and struggling policeman, our hero escorted the Imp off 
the show grounds. 

'‘If you come back here,” said he, giving the baffled 
acrobat a final shove into the road, “you will certainly be 
discovered, and will have me to deal with.” 

“This is not the end,” gritted the Imp, shaking his fist. 
“I’ve got a basket of props back there in your one-horse 
layout, and you can’t stop me from coming back after 
’em.” 

“I think I can,” retorted Phil, coolly. “Wait here half 
a minute and I’ll have your basket of props set out into 
the road.” 

Returning to the dressing-tent, he had one of the can- 
vasmen carry out the Imp’s properties, and then caused 
the fuming Garretson to be set at liberty. 

“The parade is half an hour late in starting,” remarked 
Grout. 

“The delay could not be avoided,” answered Phil, letting 
his eye follow along the line. “Where’s Eona ?” he asked, 
seeing that she was missing from her accustomed place. 

“That’s a conundrum, Rushy,” answered Mamie. “She 
got away whoile ye was tanglin’ up with the Imp, as ye 
call him.” 

“Well, do not wait for her. Walt, you take my place, 
as I told you. There are several matters here to claim my 
attention, and I do not wish to leave.” 


28 


A Conflict of Authority. 


Then the band struck up a lively air, and the glittering 
pageant fared forth to the town. 

Phil, meanwhile, had halted long enough to talk sternly 
and plainly to Garretson, and had then begun searching 
for Eona. He found her at last in the horse tent, seated 
on an overturned bucket, a handkerchief to her eyes. 


CHAPTER. IV. 


THE BRAHMIN COBRA. 

Excepting Eona and her horse, the canvas stable was 
deserted. There had always been something of a mystery 
about the dainty Girl Centaur. As a star, her orbit had 
not been so steady as that of Mamie, nor so “eccentric” 
as that of Isabel. She was always willing, if not cheerful, 
and ever and always a depression seemed gnawing at her 
heart. Phil was not astonished at finding her in tears, 
and he knew that she must have been affected deeply to 
willfully forego her place in the parade. 

His approach over the hay which strewed the floor of 
the tent was noiseless, and a shiver convulsed Eona’s 
slender form as she felt his hand laid gently on her shoul- 
der and heard him speak. 

“What is the matter, little girl?” queried Phil. “Are 
you not well this morning?” 

At that moment he made note of a small, neatly wrapped 
package lying in the hay beside Eona. 

She did not answer, but her slight frame was racked 
the harder with her sobs. He pressed her hand as he 
would have done with a grief-stricken child. In truth, the 
girl was little more in his eyes than one to be pitied and 
petted. 

“I’m sorry, little one,” he said, after a time, when her 
grief grew less, “that you are feeling so badly. Calm 


30 


The Brahmin Cobra. 


yourself and tell me what has happened. I have been a 
true friend to you, have I not?” 

“The best friend I ever had in this world!” she mur- 
mured. 

“Then you can trust me?” 

“Oh, yes, yes! But I must not! That is, not now.” 

“That dandy has annoyed you for several days. You 
should have mentioned the matter to me before, Eona.” 

“It was not that — entirely,” she said, hastily. 

“Then the man, Despereaux, perhaps, had something to 
do with your running off here and not going with the 
parade.” 

“Forgive me for that, Philip,” she pleaded. “Pray for- 
give me for not doing my work, but I could not go when 
I knew that I should be crying every step of the way.” 

“There is nothing to forgive, Eona. I would not have 
wanted you in the parade if you felt badly. But, tell me. 
Why did the sight of Despereaux have such an effect upon 
you?” 

She gave him a hasty, almost a frightened, glance out 
from under her dark eyelashes. 

“How do you know that it was Despereaux, Philip?” 

“Because, unless I am greatly mistaken, you gave a 
startled cry and reeled in your saddle the moment you 
saw him run out of the dressing-tent.” 

She clutched her slender hands together and allowed 
them to fall into her lap, at the same time turning down 
her eyes. 

“I did that,” she faltered, “because I — I recognized 
him.” 


The Brahmin Cobra. 


3i 


“Then you must have seen him before to-day?” 

“You remember Tandy’s Two-Tent Wonder?” 

“I shall never forget that show,” said Phil, “nor the 
fight we had for the Edmunton Fair Grounds. I hired 
you away from Tandy — but with Tandy’s permission, 
however. What has that to do with the Bottle Imp?” 

“He was formerly one of Tandy’s men.” 

“I do not recall seeing his specialty at the time we con- 
solidated for a joint performance.” 

“No, because he was not with Tandy at that time. You 
see, he had been discharged for drunkenness and lawless 
behavior a few days before you joined your show with the 
Two-Tent Wonder. From there he joined Saunders’ cir- 
cus.” 

“Ah ! I am beginning to get this straightened out in my 
mind.” 

“I understand that you gave him a trial this morning, 
thinking to have him in the show for tent Number Two?” 

An anxious look accompanied the words. 

“He went through his act for me,” said Phil, “and Mr. 
Arkwright thought I had secured a prize. The Imp, how- 
ever, either could not, or would not, prove a clear record 
for himself, and for that reason alone we did not come to 
terms.” 

“If you had come to terms,” said the girl, with a shiver, 
“I should not have remained with the show.” 

“Eona!” exclaimed Phil. “Why would you have left 
me ?” 

“Oh, I should not have said that!” she murmured, in 


32 


The Brahmin Cobra. 


a shaking voice. “I am beside myself and hardly know 
what I am saying. I know, Philip, that Despereaux is 
here for no good purpose. I am positive that he tried to 
join the show at the instigation of your enemy, Saunders.” 

“I know it,” answered our hero. “I am positive the 
fellow has some deep-laid scheme, and I would have given 
a good deal to force a confession from him. I knew he 
was from Saunders’ show.” 

“Who told you?” 

“A woman, disguised as a man, who also tried to en- 
gage with us this morning.” 

“Was it a woman with sloe-black eyes and jet hair?” 
demanded Eona, throwing out her hands to clasp Philip’s. 

“Yes.” 

“Then there is no doubt about it,” muttered Eona. “It 
was certainly the Mexicana.” 

“Who is the Mexicana?” 

“I do not know her real name, but that is what she was 
always called. She was with Tandy, too, and was in love 
with Despereaux, and desperately jealous of him. When 
he left the Two-Tent Wonder, she also went away, joining 
Saunders’ show to be near the man she loved. Ah, she 
is a terrible woman, terrible. When with the Tandy show, 
the Mexicana was thought to be past mistress of the art 
of Duello con armo bianco, as the Spanish call it. In 
other words, she was believed to be under-handed, two- 
faced, a snake-in-the-grass.” 

“I can well believe that. And as for that dandy, Eona, 
did you ever see him before the last two days ?” 


The Brahmin Cobra. 


33 


“Yes,” she answered, flushing. “He came to the town 
where the Tandy show was giving performances, and 
hired Despereaux and the Mexicana.” 

A light was beginning to break in on the young show- 
man. It must be he had three enemies to work against — 
the dandy, the Imp and the Mexicana. The first he did 
not fear, the second might be dangerous, but the third 
would possibly be as dangerous to the Imp as to Phil him- 
self. It was patent that Eona read his thoughts, or part 
of them, for she said : 

“I am sure these three are working against you, Philip, 
for the purpose of accomplishing some evil work of that 
villain, Saunders.” 

“I wish I knew what their game was,” muttered Phil. 

“It would be worth much to you, would it not?” said 
the girl, eagerly. 

“It is hard to tell how much or how little. One man, if 
desperate enough, could accomplish a great deal of evil in 
a show like ours. I am curious to know what use Saun- 
ders was able to make of that dandy?” 

“Little use of the dandy, but much use of his money.” 

“He is really rich, then ?” 

“His father is, and Juggins — the dandy’s name is Reggy 
Juggins ” 

“Delightful name,” smiled Phil. “It would come easy 
to pronounce if one had a bad cold in the head.” 

Eona smiled a little as she went on. 

“His father sends him all the money he wants, and 
Saunders has him completely under his thumb.” 


34 


The Brahmin Cobra. 


“I can easily believe that of Saunders. I hope we are 
done with Juggins, the Imp and the Mexicana.” 

“I hope so,” returned Eona, earnestly, “but I am afraid 
not.” 

“Juggins, at least, will not pester you any more.” 

“He is still sending me offerings,” she answered, pick- 
ing up the parcel that lay beside her. “This was handed 
to me but a few moments before you came, Philip.” 

“Are you sure it is from Juggins?” asked the young 
showman. 

Examining the card thrust under the string, he saw 
that it read : “To the peerless Girl Centaur, from one who 
admires her wonderful riding.” 

“It is not in his handwriting,” she answered, “but who 
else is there to send me roses, and candy, and other 
things ?” 

“There may be some one else,” smiled Phil. “Open 
the box and see. Walt says you have admirers galore, 
and that your head would be quite turned if you could 
hear the remarks made about you while you are in the 
ring.” 

“You are good to me,” she said, untying the parcel, and 
removing the wrapper with almost childish eagerness. 
“We will see who has been kind enough to ” 

Her words gave place to a wild scream, and she dropped 
the box and fell backward, an ungainly shape springing 
at her and falling but a few inches short. 

A cobra ! One of the Mexicana’s Brahmin cobras ! 

With outspread hood, head erect and eyes glittering, 
the reptile once more struck at Eona. 


The Brahmin Cobra. 


35 


This time it would have reached its mark and its deadly 
venom have been spilled into the girl’s veins, but for Phil. 

Quick as a flash he seized a pitchfork lying near, 
jumped at the snake and pinned its writhing form to 
the earth with the steel tines. 


CHAPTER V. 


a woman's heart. 

All this had happened in a few brief moments of time, 
but how much Eona had suffered in the interval between 
the unwrapping of the box and Phil's wondrous work 
with the pitchfork, would be hard to compute. As she 
dropped on the hay-covered floor she shook in every limb, 
and hysterical sobs came through her tense lips. 

With one swift glance, Phil saw that the pasteboard 
box had cunningly concealed slits in the bottom and top, 
no doubt corresponding with holes in the wrapper, through 
which the serpent had secured air. His heart sickened 
at such a diabolical piece of treachery, and his indignation 
rose to think that it had been directed at so frail a girl 
as now lay trembling on the floor so near him. 

It was the Mexicana’s work — that was beyond all per- 
adventure. Perhaps the woman was in the pay of Saun- 
ders and was working his will. Yet he could not think 
that Saunders was desperate enough to connive at such 
a crime, for what could he cherish against Eona? No, 
the attempt must have been the result of innate fiend- 
ishness on the part of the Mexicana, spurred to the deed 
by some fancied wrong. 

After setting his heel on the ugly head of the still 
writhing viper, our hero hurried over to Eona. 

“There, there, little one,” he said, tenderly, bending 
and lifting her up beside him, “a miss is as good as a 


A Woman’s Heart. 


37 


mile, they say, so calm yourself. You are overwrought 
and your nerves completely unstrung — something I do not 
wonder at. I will send you to the hotel in a carriage. 
When you get there, eat a little something, rest, and if 
you feel well enough to come back and take part in the 
performance, very good. If you are not able, why, we’ll 
get along in some way.” 

With a sudden movement she brushed away her tears. 

“I am stronger than you think,” she said; “almost 
everybody believes me weak because I am so slender, but 
I can keep on a horse’s back longer than Isabel, and I 
do not believe even Mamie could tire me out.” 

“You must be careful in future how you open boxes 
sent to you by strangers.” 

“I will, indeed !” and she shuddered as she cast a look 
at the shapeless head and ugly body of the cobra. 

“Can you tell me why the Mexicana should cherish such 
evil designs against you, Eona?” asked Phil, watching 
her face intently. 

“I can, but — but Oh, you must not ask me to tell 

you, now.” She sprang to him and caught his hands. 
“You have been so good to me, Philip, and I want you 
to trust me. Will you?” 

“Of course,” he answered, “but it looks to me as though 
your enemies are my enemies, Eona, and that the more 
I know about them the better it will be for both of us.” 

“Not yet, not yet,” she returned, with feverish eager- 
ness. “Promise again that you will trust me, whatever 
happens, and whatever I may do that you cannot under- 
stand.” 


38 


A Woman’s Heart. 


Phil was nonplused at the girl’s peculiar manner, but 
he promised, and she caught his hand. 

“Oh, thank you, thank you !” she exclaimed. 

Then they went out, and soon those who had been on 
parade came back. 

“How is everything, Rush?” asked Walt, dismounting 
and turning his horse over to the hostler. 

“Very quiet.” 

“I’ve got a premonition of trouble, old man ; have had it 
all through the parade. Now, don’t laugh at me. A fel- 
low can’t be blamed for what gets into his bones.” 

“I’m not going to blame you, Walt.” 

“Being something of a clairvoyant, Rush, you ought to 
be able to look ahead and tell us just where, when and 
how the lightning is going to strike.” 

“Easy on that strain, Walt,” said Phil, in an aside to 
his chum. “I don’t want to get the ladies worried, nor 
any of the rest. I have a feeling that trouble of some 
kind is impending, but let’s keep all that to ourselves. 
You look after things for a while. I've got business over 
in the woods yonder.” 

The young showman’s quick eye had glimpsed a be- 
shawled and turbaned figure looking stealthily out of a 
copse of bushes not far from the rear of the horse tent. 

Sauntering out to the road, he made a detour, entered 
the woods, and came up behind the Mexicana, who, from 
her screen of bushes, was watching like a hawk the doings 
upon the show grounds. 

As the rustle of brush and cracking of twigs heralded 
Phil’s approach, she sprang up and faced around. The 


A Woman’s Heart. 


39 


young showman dashed toward her and she recoiled, 
stretching out one brown forefinger straight toward him. 

“Stop !” she commanded, fiercely. “Don’t you advance 
another step toward me !” 

“I have 'come to take you to jail,” answered Phil, 
sternly. “You made an attempt on the life of Eona, one 
of my young lady riders, and while we are in this town, 
and you are at liberty, I realize that she is not safe. 
I might prefer serious charges against you, but I shall not. 
All I desire is to have you kept safely behind the bars 
while we are in this town. You must go with me.” 

She listened patiently, and laughed his words to scorn 
when he had finished. 

“I will not go with you, senor.” 

“Then I will take you.” 

“No. Neither you nor any one else will take me.” 

She folded her arms and gazed at him with insolent 
defiance. Phil was not one to be intimidated. He had 
made up his mind what it was right for him to do, and 
he intended to do it. Hastening to her, he put out his 
hands to grasp one of her arms. 

“Beware the cobras, senor!” she hissed. “I have two 
left.” 

At that instant the two pairs of diamonds appeared on 
her shoulders, swaying menacingly. 

“I have not played to calm them, you will observe,” she 
went on, in her softest tones. “If rudely disturbed, they 
will bite, and a bite means death.” 

Phil drew back. 


40 


A Woman’s Heart. 


“You are a fiend !” he exclaimed, his eyes on her sneer- 
ing face. 

“ Cospetto !” she laughed. “Others have called me that. 
They think me a she-demon, one lost to all sense of 
feeling.” Knotting her brows, she clinched her hand and 
struck fiercely at her breast. . “Madre mai!” she cried, 
in an intensity of passion; “has not a Mexicana a heart? 
Can she not love as well as hate?” 


CHAPTER VI. 


A WOMAN SCORNED. 

The Mexicana attracted Phil, even while she repelled 
him. There seemed to be little that was good or true 
in her nature, and that she was a woman who would pause 
at nothing he was very sure. Yet — and the thought 
brought with it a good deal of pity — might she not err 
in being too intensely human? Her lineage, the warm 
blood of her Southern stock, had made her different from 
women he knew or had known. As he stood gazing at 
her, these thoughts swept through his mind, and she may 
have read them in his face. At any rate, his countenance 
softened, and she crept a few paces toward him. 

“Perhaps you understand me, senor! I think I can 
read in your face that you have sympathy for a woman 
scorned. Ah, if you knew all, if you knew all ! A woman 
can have but one great passion in this life, and if it be 
low, or unworthily placed, then woe to her. Look at me ! 
See the dress I wear. Unwomanly you thought me in 
the tent a few hours ago — unwomanly because I followed 
like a dog the man I cared for, vowing that he should 
never give to another the love he denies me. And when 
I do all that I can to destroy the one who has lured 
Despereaux from me, you would drag me to jail. Is that 
right? Is that just?” 

Her bosom heaved beneath the storm of emotion that 


42 


A Woman Scorned. 


beset her, and Phil wondered how it was possible for her 
to deceive herself as she was doing. 

“Do you mean to tell me that Eona lured Despereaux 
away from you?” he asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Then I must tell you that you are laboring under a 
mistake. It is not true.” 

She peered at him earnestly, and then said, smiling 
wearily : 

“You are deceived, senor.” 

“I know what I am talking about,” declared our hero. 
“But, whether I am right or wrong, that does not excuse 
your murderous intentions. Had it not been for me, the 
cobra you sent to Eona would have bitten her and caused 
her death.” 

“That would have been right,” she answered, com- 
placently. 

“I must differ with you. More than that, I must 
adhere to my original intention and place you in jail until 
our show has left this town.” 

“Your show will never leave this town.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“Nothing. That is apart from the subject.” 

“I admit that, but it concerns me a great deal. Why 
did you say that the Rushington show would never leave 
this town?” 

His voice was stern, but did not bring an answer such 
as he desired. 

“What I said was a slip of the tongue. You will not 
get me to explain, and neither will you take me to jail, 


A Woman Scorned. 


43 


senor. But let me tell you this : I say the girl, Eona, lured 
Despereaux away from me. It was her art and not her 
pale beauty, for I am more beautiful than she. And I 
can prove my words.” 

“I do not believe you.” 

“Will you give me the opportunity to prove them?” 

“I have not much time at my command, for I am ” 

“It will not take much time. Come with me a few 
steps farther into the wood, that is all I ask.” 

Phil hesitated, not knowing but that this mad woman 
might be luring him into some trap. 

“You are afraid,” she sneered. “Afraid of me and my 
snakes, and of Despereaux, the man whom you twisted 
off his feet as though he had been a child !” She paused, 
tossed her head and parted her lips in a wily smile. “Or 
is it,” she taunted, “that you fear I will prove that the 
Girl Centaur is no better than she should be ” 

“Stop !” broke in Phil. “Even you can go too far. 
Lead the way and I will accompany you a short distance. 
If any treachery befalls me, it will be you who suffer.” 

“Have it that way, if you will. Come.” 

She started through the wood with a gliding motion 
that reminded Rush most disagreeably of a serpent. She 
was several paces in front, and suddenly she halted, 
turned, placed a finger on her lips, and dropped down on 
her knees. For a few yards farther she crawled, then 
parted the bushes before her and peered through them. 

Our hero’s curiosity was thoroughly aroused by this 
time, and he made his way silently to a point on a line 


44 


A Woman Scorned. 


with her, but a few yards to one side. Looking in the 
direction of her steady glance, he saw a sight that amazed 
him. 

Not far away, in a sort of cleared space, he saw Des- 
pereaux. Beside him was Eona. They were talking, 
but in voices so low as not to reach his ears. A little while 
only did they continue thus, when Despereaux stepped to- 
ward Eona, as though he would embrace her. The girl, 
however, stepped back quickly, bringing her face into 
Phil’s line of vision, and he plainly read in it the deepest 
repulsion. She put up her hand as though to ward him 
off, and her lips moved as she spoke. Apparently, what 
she said caused the man to forego his purpose, for he 
simply caught her hand. Jerking her hand from him, 
Eona turned and vanished among the trees. 

As she started off Phil saw the Mexicana darting across 
the cleared space in swift pursuit, holding one of the writh- 
ing cobras in her hand. A chill sped through his nerves. 
The demoniacal jealousy of the woman was again aroused, 
and she was pursuing Eona to carry out the purpose in 
which she had failed such a short time before. The sight 
of the snake charmer was enough to cause Phil to leap to 
his feet. But ere he could throw himself in her path and 
intercept her, another was before him. That other was 
the Imp. Muttering an imprecation, he sprang directly 
in front of the Mexicana, a stout stick in his hand. At 
sight of him, her fierce purpose seemed to leave her, and 
she dropped down on both knees, her hands pleadingly 
outstretched toward him. He said something in a harsh 
voice, she replaced the cobra in the folds of her dress. 


A Woman Scorned. 45 

then got up, and they walked away together in the direc- 
tion of the town. 

Our hero heaved a sigh of relief and brushed his sleeve 
across his forehead. What did it all mean, he asked him- 
self, as he made his way back toward the show grounds. 
He remembered how anxious Eona had been to make him 
promise to trust her, no matter what she might do. Could 
he go back on his spoken word ? No ; he could not, and 
he would not. Notwithstanding this determination, he 
had an uncomfortable feeling of doubt that made him 
ill at ease. 

The first person he met when he reached the main 
tent was Walt. 

“Eona looks more like a ghost than ever, Rush/’ said 
he. “I did not think she would be able to ride at the 
afternoon performance, but she says she will.” 

“Where is she?” 

“Over by the dressing-tent. She seems terribly wrought 
up and nervous about something. Can it be on account 
of that dude?” 

“That and other things. When did you see her, Walt?” 

“I just left her. She gave me this and told me to 
give it to you without a moment's unnecessary delay.” 

Walt handed our hero a scrap of paper. The latter un- 
folded it and the following met his eye: 

“Watch Bulkley. Do it yourself. Do not let him get 
out of your sight once during the afternoon.” 

Having read the scrap, Phil handed it to Walt. 

“What is the meaning of that?” asked Arkwright. 

“It means much more than appears on the face of it. 


46 


A Woman Scorned. 


There is something between the lines, old man, that makes 
me feel queer. That foreboding I was speaking about is 
getting stronger.” 

“So is mine, Rush. But what can the girl have found 
out?” 

“She was in a position to find out much, but I have 
not time to explain. You took my place in the parade, 
and you must now take it in the ring.” 

“But ” 

“No time for any buts.” 

“I know there was general disappointment because you 
were not in the parade, and the disappointment will be 
worse if you are not in the ring.” 

“The crowd can stand the disappointment much better 
than I can bear to have anything serious happen to the 
show.” 

Walt gave a hasty look into his friend’s face. Phil 
was not given to making much ado about nothing, and 
none knew that better than the assistant manager. 

“So bad as that?” asked Walt. 

“Worse ! But we’ve got the whip hand, and if we keep 
it the difficulty will be tided over. Keep this worry from 
the girls as much as you can, and especially from Dora.” 

“She will ask where you are, of course.” 

“Be as indefinite as you can. Joseph Q. Saunders is 
engineering some plot to make us no end of trouble, and 
we must checkmate him.” 

“He is still in jail at Charlotte, understand, but some 
one is furnishing money to keep his show going.” 

“The dude is furnishing the money for the show, and 


A Woman Scorned. 


47 

as for Saunders, he can work against us by means of go- 
betweens just as well in jail as out.” 

Walt’s amazement was great, but he saw that Phil was 
in no mood for explanations, so he started off toward the 
dressing-tent, pausing only to say. 

“All right, Rush. I’ll do the best I can in the ring, but 
I’m a poor apology for you, and the people will all know 
it’s a makeshift, but when needs must it’s the Old Boy 
that drives. Look out for Bulkley. I didn’t have a very 
high opinion of him when I took him on.” 

“I’ll look out for him, you may be sure,” returned Phil, 
and there was a flash in his eyes that implied volumes more 
than he spoke. 


CHAPTER VII. 


FOILING A PLOT. 

After leaving Walt, the young showman walked around 
toward the front part of the show. Here were crowds 
of country people and townspeople, and all was noise and 
confusion, for the doors were open and people were com- 
ing, buying their tickets and passing inside. 

There was every prospect for a good afternoon’s busi- 
ness, and nothing could be more calculated to rejoice the 
young showman’s heart. But, so far, he had had an ex- 
tremely trying day. They had reached town that morning, 
with the “early birds,” and the journey from the last stand 
had been made without accident, so that he had enjoyed 
a fairly long and refreshing night’s slumber. A good 
breakfast had also gone far toward preparing him for the 
unforeseen trials of the day, so he did not mind so much 
the prospect of losing his dinner, which he seemed very 
likely to do. 

As he came around toward the front entrance, he 
looked about for the officials and portly presence of Gar- 
retson. The fellow was not in the place where he had 
taken root, all the forenoon, and Phil wondered at it so 
much that he halted one of his employees, whose post of 
duty kept him in the front part of the show grounds, and 
asked after the meddlesome Pooh-Bah. 

“He didn’t hang around here very much after the pa- 
rade started, Mr. Rushington,” answered the man to 


49 


Foiling a Plot. 

whom our hero put his query. “He was mad as a wet Hen 
at the way he had been treated, and he declared that he 
was going to get some people he knew, swear them in as 
deputies, and take you neck and heels to the calaboose.” 

The man laughed while he explained. 

“What has he got against me?” queried Phil, who saw 
the annoyances of the day still heaping themselves up. 

“He claims that you had your men interfere with him 
in the performance of his sworn duty.” 

Our hero passed on, wondering if the fellow really 
meant to take action on such a trumped-up charge. The 
man had little sense, and there was no telling what he 
might attempt to do. Failing to secure a bribe of any 
considerable size, he had bluntly demanded tickets for his 
sisters, cousins and aunts, as well as the male side of the 
tribe, and Phil’s refusal to be mulcted, even in this petty 
way, had been the last straw. It left the man boiling, 
thoroughly exasperated and ready and eager to backcap 
the young manager in any possible manner. If he only 
swore into his posse the dozen or so of male relatives for 
whom he had demanded tickets, and made a family party 
of the proposed raid, Phil knew that he could cause any 
amount of trouble. 

But just then our hero had weightier things to bother 
him. He was looking for Bulkley, and Bulkley was a 
greater power for evil than Garretson could ever hope to 
make himself. Bulkley was a laborer of the low-browed, 
bull-necked class, with just enough power to reason about 
a few dollars adroitly placed in his palm. He had been 
with the show but a few days — in fact, had been taken 


50 


Foiling a Plot. 


on at a town not far from Charlotte — and Phil was be- 
ginning to think that he might be part of the Saunders’ 
outfit, and present through the deep-laid plans of the wily 
rival showman. 

He asked several of his busy employees where Bulkley 
was, but they could not give him any satisfaction. As 
part of the pick-and-shovel gang, Bulkley’s duties had 
been long ago performed. As it was one of the show’s 
rules that no man could leave the grounds without per- 
mission, and as Bulkley had not asked for such permis- 
sion, it followed that he should be somewhere in the 
vicinity, unless he had absented himself without leave. 

A little careful searching revealed the man dozing under 
the cook wagon in an obscure and tolerably quiet part of 
the show grounds. He was sprawled out on the ground, 
his head elevated on a roll of dirty canvas, and certainly 
looked harmless enough. At first Phil had a vague pre- 
sentiment that he would only be wasting time to watch 
the fellow. 

But there was the scrap of paper and Eona’s carefully 
worded warning.. If he was not to distrust the girl, he 
could not overlook that. 

Thinking in this way, he strolled carelessly over to one 
of the empty canvas vans, quickly hiding himself within 
it in such a way that he could watch Bulkley’s every 
move through a chink in one of the tall sides. 

Lying at full length and making himself as comfort- 
able as he could, he watched his man and listened to the 
various sounds reaching him from the tents. 

The throng was thinning on the outside of the canvas, 


5 * 


Foiling a Plot. 

the noise having been carried within the canvas walls. 
The band was playing the usual pieces of the overture, 
and Phil hummed over the numbers and fancied himself 
looking, with a glow of pleasure, at the rapidly filling 
seats. 

There was but one detail lacking to make his combina- 
tion as complete as he could desire. This missing feature 
troubled Walt far more than it did him. What was 
needed was one or two specialty men to pad out the 
menagerie feature in Tent Two. 

Phil remembered the albinos, giants, dwarfs, Zulus and 
others with which Barnum used to reinforce his cage de- 
partment, and he leaned to freaks rather than specialty 
men, but attractions of that kind could not be picked up 
at random in that part of the South. Indeed, Phil had 
considered himself fortunate to be approached by the 
Mexicana and the Bottle Imp at that place and time — a 
circumstance now accounted for by the knewledge that it 
was a plot on the part of the rascally Saunders. 

As he lay there watching and thinking, the band struck 
up the gay tune used for the grand entry, and he knew 
that the curtains had been thrown and that Walt and the 
star rider, Isabel, were dashing into the ring. A burst 
of applause, loud and prolonged, came from the main tent, 
and then a slight pause, followed by loud shouts of “Rush- 
ington ! Rushington !” 

Then our hero understood that he was missed, and that 
they wanted him. His s heart swelled a little, for he was 
no more than human, and just as the clamor in the main 
tent began to die down, the man under the cook wagon 


52 Foiling a Plot. 

bestirred himself, and Phil was thrown instantly on the 
qui znve. 

Lifting his head, Bulkley crawled over and looked in the 
direction of the tents from between the wheels of the 
wagon. Apparently satisfied with himself, he crawled out 
and got up. 

At that moment Juggins came around the end of the 
wagon. 

“What’s the matter with you, Bulkley?” queried Jug- 
gins. 

“Nothin’,” snarled the other. “Why?” 

“Well, you aren’t doing a thing, that’s all.” 

“ ’Pears ter me like yer mighty much in a rush, all at 
oncet.” 

“I am. I want to play even with the man who owns 
this show. Have you heard how he treated me? He 
threw me down, and had his elephants throw water all 
over me. By gad ! If a dozen or so of his men hadn’t 
held me off, I’d have paralyzed Rushington.” 

“Bah!” sneered Bulkley, taking a hasty survey around 
him. “You ain’t got no business here. If you was seen 
talking to me, that ’u’d put me on the blacklist right off. 
Chase yerself.” 

“Well, I’ll go. I’m going out in the woods there and 
wait for Despereaux. You have got everything ready, 
have you?” 

“Yes — as near ready as I could make things with a 
hull lot o’ people spyin’ around.” 

“Used kerosene, didn’t you?” 

“A gallon — it’ll be enough to give the fire headway.” 


Foiling a Plot. 


53 


“Good ! What we want is to create a stampede. If 
some of the audience happen to get hurt and come on 
Rushington for damages, he’ll be ruined.” 

“I thought we was ter burn up the old contraption ?” 

“I don’t think that could be done — too, many around 
to put out the fire, you understand. Now, if ” 

“Looky here ! You slide. I’m gettin’ nervous.” 

“All right, I’ll go. But isn’t it time for you to get in 
your work ? Everything seems to be quiet now.” 

“Don’t you worry ’bout me. I won’t let no grass grow 
under my feet, you can bet yer life on that.” 

“Do this job right, and there’ll be another fifty on 
the side for you.” 

“Don’t fergit that. Now pull out.” 

Juggins departed, and Bulkley waited till he struck the 
woods before starting for the tents. 

It would be hard to depict the feelings with which the 
young showman heard this brief conversation. 

The first point settled in his mind was that Eona was 
entirely worthy of his confidence, however much he might 
fail to understand her meeting with Despereaux in the 
woods. 

And then the rashness and boldness of his enemies’ 
plans, as vaguely outlined by what he had overheard, 
startled Phil. 

He was loth to believe that anything so desperate would 
be undertaken, yet there before his eyes was his renegade 
employee skulking toward the tents. 

Slipping down from the canvas, our hero followed. 
Curley was asleep in the horse tent. The young showman 


54 


Foiling a Plot. 


saw him as he passed, and also made note that his favorite 
ring horse, saddled, bridled and ready for its rider, was 
standing waiting. 

The space in front of the show was deserted. Only 
one or two men were in sight, and these were the guards 
patrolling the tents to see that no one slipped in surrepti- 
tiously. 

With a nod to one of the guards, Bulkley lifted the 
wall of tent Number Two and rolled under. Phil fol- 
lowed, but through the door, speaking a low word to the 
ticket taker, who was still waiting for stragglers. 

Once within, Phil slipped along back of the cages, fol- 
lowing Bulkley. At last the latter reached a point where 
the ovals of the two tents came together on each side of 
the passage between, and the scheming laborer slipped 
out of the tent once more and into the V-shaped opening 
where the two tents were joined. 

As our hero reached this point a powerful odor of 
kerosene assailed his nostrils, and he made the discovery 
that the bottom of the tent wall for quite a considerable 
distance was soaked with the inflammable stuff. 

How such elaborate preparation had ever been made 
without being discovered by employees who were con- 
stantly going and coming past that very place, was some- 
thing that appeared very strange to Phil. 

He had no time to waste in useless conjecture, how- 
ever. Crawling out under the tent side, he saw Bulkley 
kneeling, and in the very act of applying a match to the 
soaked canvas. 

The incendiary was in the point of the V-shaped open- 


Foiling a Plot. 55 

ing, and quite screened from the view of any one who 
chanced to be anywhere but directly at his back. 

With one spring, our hero was on the fellow; an in- 
stant more and he had thrown him back to the ground 
with terrific force, and had slapped out the flickering 
tongue of flame with his hat. 

The suddenness of the attack dazed Bulkley, and the 
force with which he had been hurled to the ground 
knocked the breath from his body and made him powerless 
to move for an instant. 

Just as Phil succeeded in beating out the fire, Bulkley 
sprang to his feet with a muttered imprecation and drew 
a knife from his pocket. 

Our hero was in no mood to trifle with the fellow. He 
made a feint with his right hand and Bulkley struck 
savagely at the fist with his knife point. As the knife 
glided harmlessly through the air, our hero caught the 
wrist of Bulkley’s knife hand with a quick blow of his 
left fist, and the knife dropped. 

One of the guards saw the encounter and ran to our 
hero’s assistance, clutching Bulkley by the collar from 
behind. 

Bulkley began to struggle, but Phil clasped him about 
the throat with his strong fingers. 

“Quiet!” commanded the young showman. “If you 
wish to save yourself trouble you’ll walk over to the horse 
tent with me and make a clean breast of this whole af- 
fair.” 

“What was the scoundrel tryin’ to do, Mr. Rushing- 
ton?” asked the guard. 


56 Foiling a Plot. 

Phil pointed to the oil-soaked canvas with the ragged 
burn in the bottom. 

“He was trying to burn the tent down over the heads 
of the people, create a panic, and see how many he could 
injure, and how much property he could destroy.” 

“He ought to be hung!” snapped the guard, shaking 
Bulkley as he clung to his collar. 

“ ’Tain’t so !” returned the laborer. “I jest got down 
there out o’ the wind to light my pipe an’ the tent caught.” 

“Lying won’t help your case a particle,” returned Phil. 
“I’m going to get at the bottom of this thing, and if you 
want to save yourself a term in the penitentiary, Bulkley, 
you’ll help me do it.” 

“You can’t prove nothin’ agin’ me !” averred Bulkley. 

“Nonsense! Didn’t I overhear you talking with Jug- 
gins?” Bulkley gave a start, paled, and took on a glassy 
look in the eyes. 

“He hired you to do this fiendish work, and you can’t 
deny it.” 

Bulkley’s nerve left him at this disclosure, and he began 
to whimper. 

“Don’t be hard on me, Mr. Rushington,” he pleaded. 
“It wasn’t me as was at the bottom of it all.” 

“Are you willing to tell all you know ?” 

“Yes, I’ll tell everythin’ if you’ll be easy with me.” 

“Then step over to the horse tent with me.” Phil signed 
to the guard, who removed his hand, allowing the young 
showman to twine his fingers in the prisoner’s collar. 
“Come on.” 

As they started off, Phil halted to say to the guard : 


Foiling a Plot. 57 

“Keep this to yourself, Bixby. Say nothing about it.” 

“All right, sir.” 

On the road between the main tent and the tent given 
over to the horses, no one was met, so that no comment 
or queries were aroused. 

Curley was still asleep, and our hero made Bulkley sit 
down on the overturned bucket where Eona had sat some 
time before. The dead snake had been removed by the 
groom, who had wondered how it got there, and was even 
then, no doubt, dreaming about it. 

“As I told you, Bulkley,” said Phil, “I overheard the 
talk you had with Juggins a little while ago at the cook 
wagon. I was in the canvas van, and took in every word.” 

“Juggins was a pesky fool for cornin’ ’round,” replied 
Bulkley, his whole attention apparently bent upon the 
subject of what he might have done to escape his present 
dilemma. 

“I have nothing to do with that now. Who was it 
hired you to do this underhand work?” 

“Him.” Bulkley jerked his head backward in the di- 
rection of the woods where Juggins had disappeared. 

“Juggins hired you for some one else, didn’t he?” 

“I think the boss of a rival show was behind it. If I 
did this job I was to go with the other show at twice the 
pay I’m gittin’ here, an’ have a rake-off besides.” 

Bulkley talked of his criminal work in a matter-of-fact 
way that showed how callous he was to the question of 
right and wrong. It is doubtful whether he realized the 
enormity of the crime he intended committing. 

“Do you know who this other showman is ?” asked Phil, 


58 


Foiling a Plot. 


Bulkley shook his head. 

“Never heard his name,” he said. 

Phil believed he was getting the truth, so that the mat- 
ter of collusion between Bulkley and Saunders direct was 
settled in the negative. 

“The idea was to destroy my property, cause a panic, 
and thus ruin me, wasn’t it ?” proceeded the young show- 
man. 

“So I was told. Durin’ the stampede caused by the 
fire, the Imp was to run off with one of your gal riders — 
the one called the Centaur, I think.” 

“The Imp!” echoed Rush, with a quick look into the 
other’s face. 

“I believe that’s what he was called. It was the feller 
that started the rumpus while the parade was gettin’ ready 
to start.” 

“How could he run off with Eona during the panic that 
was to follow the fire ? He isn’t on the grounds and hasn’t 
been since I sent him away.” 

Bulkley rubbed his knees and chuckled hoarsely. 

“That’s your word fer it. Why, he’s right in that 
dressin’-room now.” 

“You’re mistaken. If seen there he would be ejected 
at once.” 

“He’s there, all right, but he ain’t on exhibition — jest 
yet. He’s aware of how ye feel toward him, an’ he ain’t 
takin’ no chances. He’s dressed up in his tights, so’s he’ll 
be taken fer one of yer men, when he rides off with the 
gal durin’ the stampede. In that way, he thinks he’ll get 
away with her.” 


59 


Foiling a Plot. 

“But where is he now ?” 

“He’s there, I tell ye, ’cause I helped him to get there.” 

“Where is he hidden ?” 

“Look here, Mr. Rushington, I know I’ve got myself 
inter a hole. I don’t have to have no one tell me that. 
But you’ve said, if I made a clean breast of all I know, 
you’d be easy on me. Does that mean you’ll let me. go?” 

“If your information is correct, yes; but you must tell 
me where Despereaux is, and be quick about it.” 

“He’s in a property trunk — the blue one belongin’ to 
Wister. Wister don’t know nothin’ about it. He’d got 
his stuff out an’ left the chest unlocked.” 

Phil pushed at the groom with the toe of his boot until 
he aroused him. Then, turning over the prisoner into his 
charge, the young showman started hurriedly toward the 
dressing-tent, determined to have a look into Wister’s 
trunk. 

He had not covered more than half the distance between 
the horse tent and the dressing-tent when a piercing 
scream came from the latter structure, followed by hoarse 
shouts as a black horse came dashing through and started 
swiftly across the grounds toward the woods. 

On the horse was the Imp, clad in his tights, and also 
Eona in her ring costume. 

The horse was the girl’s and at first glance it seemed 
to the startled Phil as though the acrobat must have 
sprung to the horse’s back just as Eona was about to do 
her turn in the ring. 

The black steed, of course, had no saddle, and Des- 
pereaux was holding the girl in front of him. 


60 Foiling a Plot. 

She was struggling wildly to get away, but to no pur- 
pose. 

Whirling, our hero dashed back to the horse tent. His 
horse, as has been stated, was bridled, saddled and wait- 
ing, and it was the work of only an instant for him to 
mount and take up the pursuit. 

As he dashed after the abductor, his horse at a mad 
gallop, he saw Walt, Grout and others hastening out of the 
dressing-tent and making frantically in various directions, 
as though seeking means for pursuit. 

The sight of Phil, hot on the Imp’s track, reassured 
them, and they stood and watched the race as pursuer and 
pursued drew closer to the fringe of timber. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

LARK GAkRETSON's GAME. 

When they struck the timber, Phil’s horse was at the 
heels of the other, and the young showman, drawing 
closer alongside, rose in his stirrups as though he would 
precipitate himself to the back of the other animal, and 
clutch Despereaux in his powerful hands. 

“Stop !” he shouted. 

Eona had not fancied that succor was so near at hand, 
and at sound of her employer’s familiar voice, courage re- 
turned. 

“Phil Rushington !” she cried, instinctively, then ceased 
her struggles and waited. 

“Stop, or I jump!” shouted Phil. 

“Jump if you dare!” shouted back Despereaux, with a 
wild laugh. 

At that instant, almost under the very hoofs of Phil’s 
horse, a form upstarted with a loud cry. 

One glance showed our hero that it was Juggins. The 
latter held his coat in his hands, and waved it in front of 
Phil’s horse. The dandy’s sudden appearance, his cry 
and the flaunting coat caused the young showman’s 
charger to leap wildly sideways. 

At that very moment, Phil was half out of his stirrups 
and taken at a disadvantage ; yet, perfect horseman as he 
was, this would not have unseated him, and it remained 


62 


Lark Garretson’s Game. 


for the projecting limb of a tree to sweep him out of the 
saddle and drop him to the ground. 

The fall was a hard one, and gave Phil a shaking up 
that put him for a moment out of the race. 

As soon as he could struggle to his feet he made a rush 
in the direction of the spot where Juggins had appeared, 
but the youth, having accomplished his purpose, had taken 
to his heels, and was sprinting through the timber as 
though his life depended on it. 

Phil’s horse, recovering from its fright, halted a few 
strides from the place where its rider had been unseated, 
and our hero remounted and continued the pursuit. 

A few moments had been lost, and valuable moments 
they were, since they enabled the Imp to gain in the lead. 
He was now out of sight, and Phil followed by ear alone, 
forcing his way through the undergrowth, which grew 
thicker at every step. It was impossible to make any kind 
of time in such a chapparal, and while pushing his way 
onward, listening to the crashing of the bushes ahead, the 
young showman consoled himself with the thought that 
Despereaux had the same obstacles to contend with that 
he had. It looked as though the race would not be to the 
swift, but to the diligent. 

After many minutes of slow progress, during which 
the pursuer came nearer and nearer the sounds he was 
following, the man ahead was overtaken. Phil’s disgust 
was great when he found it was Juggins. 

“Don’t you strike me!” cried the dandy, throwing up 
his arms as though to ward off a blow, and crouching 


Lark Garretson’s Game. 63 

down in the dead leaves ; “don’t you dare to strike me, 
Rushington !” 

“You villain !” cried Phil, leaning over and catching 
him by the collar. “What did you mean by frightening 
my horse as you did ?” 

“What did you mean by having your elephants throw 
water all over me?” snarled Juggins. “Let me go! Stop 
that ! St-0-0 ” 

The last word was lost in a chattering gurgle, for our 
hero was shaking the dandy until his teeth rattled and his 
monocle stood out at its length of string and danced 
around him. 

“Where is Despereaux ?” demanded the young show- 
man, giving Juggins a moment of rest for the purpose 
of answering. 

“I don’t know ! I’ll make you sorry you shook me. 
By gad, you’ll wish you hadn’t ! Let me go, I tell you ! 
Let me g-g-go-o ” 

Again were his words bitten off by his chattering teeth, 
while our hero gave him a harder shake than he had be- 
fore. 

“Where is Despereaux, I asked you?” cried Phil, his 
patience all but gone. 

“He went off to the right, toward the road. That’s all 
I know ! Honest ! Hope to die if it isn’t ! Don’t shake 
me again, please don’t ! You’ll kill me. I’ve got a weak 
heart, my mamma says ” 

“Your mamma made a mistake,” returned Phil. “It’s 
your head that’s weak. I won’t shake you again, but if 
I don’t find Eona, or if so much as a hair of her head is 


6 4 


Lark Garretson’s Game. 


injured, I’ll have the law on you, and Despereaux, and 
the Mexicana, and stay right in this town till you are sent 
over the road, if it breaks me up to do it. Mind that !” 

Satisfied the dandy knew nothing of the Imp’s where- 
abouts, and that valuable time was being lost, our hero 
dropped him roughly and started off to the right — the di- 
rection indicated as the one in which Despereaux had gone. 

A little more of crowding through the thorny thickets 
and he came out on a road that wound through the timber. 

Which way should he go? He had not the slightest 
. idea, but started off at random, hoping fate would direct 
h- n in the right way. 

Ahead of him was a sharp bend, and toward this he 
spurred, spurring faster as a sound of falling hoofs broke 
on his ears from around the angle in front. 

At that point the foliage was thick, and Phil could not 
make out who it was on the road ahead, but he felt toler- 
ably sure it was those for whom he was looking. 

His surprise was great as he darted around the bend, 
to find himself face to face with a buckboard loaded with 
men. 

The wagon was a three-seated affair, and there were 
two men on each seat. The driver was no less a person- 
age than Lark Garretson, and the others were presumably 
his assistant officers, hurriedly gotten together for the 
purpose of conveying our hero, “neck and heels,” to the 
town jail. 

“By jinks!” shouted Pooh-Bah. “There he is, now.” 

The “posse” must have thought they were coming on a 
dangerous mission, for every man of them was armed 


Lark Garretson’s Game. 65 

with a weapon of some kind. Before Phil could fairly 
get his breath, Garretson had an old-fashioned, muzzle- 
loading rifle pointed straight at him. The man beside 
Garretson — a one-eyed individual with long whiskers — de- 
veloped a horse pistol, and shotguns and revolvers were 
about evenly distributed among the other four. 

“Stand where you are!” roared the one-eyed man, his 
voice coming from the depths of his cowhide boots. 

“I’d shoot you just as quick as I’d eat a meal !” piped a 
consumptive-looking man from the back seat. 

“You show fellers can’t come to town an’ monkey with 
the machinery of justice!” solemnly declared a long-faced 
individual, who, being crosseyed, had aimed his shotgun 
some six feet to the right of our hero, blissfully uncon- 
scious of the fact that if he fired he would hit nothing but 
atmosphere. 

Comical though the situation might have been, under 
different circumstances, Phil was in no mood to get fun 
out of it now. His pursuit of the Imp was too serious 
a matter to suffer interruption — especially so trouble- 
some an interruption as this one promised to be. 

“Did you pass a man on horseback, carrying a girl in 
front of him, farther along on the road ?” asked Phil, ap- 
parently paying no attention to the firearms that were 
pointed at him. 

“Feller in tights ?” piped the man on the back seat. 

“Yes, that is he.” 

“Gal dressed up fancy?” asked One-Eye. 

“Yes, yes,” answered our hero, impatiently. 

“Horse goin’ like the dickens?” demanded the long- 


66 Lark Garretson’s Game. 

faced man, looking at a burr oak, and apparently talking 
to it. 

“The horse must have been at a run !” 

“Well,” said Pooh-Bah, “we didn’t pass ’em.” 

“How do you have the description down so pat, then ?” 

“They turned off the road ahead of us and went into 
the woods.” 

“Wasn’t the girl struggling and trying to get away?” 

“ ’Feared to be.” 

“Why didn’t you stop the fellow ?” Phil was indignant 
and rapidly losing his temper. 

“ ’Cause I didn’t want to, by jinks. That’s why.” 

“What kind of an officer of the law are you, anyway ?” 

“You’ll find out before Pm done with you. Won’t he, 
boys ?” 

“You bet !” chorused the “posse.” 

“That feller, Rushington,” went on Garretson, calmly, 
“was the same one that you ejected from the show 
grounds. You said then you hadn’t any legal case against 
him, an’ do you think Pm a mind reader to know that 
you’ve got one now?” 

“The fact that he was carrying off the girl ought to 
have been excuse enough for arresting him!” retorted 
Phil. “You’re a dough-head!” 

“Don’t you call me no names !” blustered Garretson. “I 
can forget more in a year than you can learn in a minute.” 

“I should hope so. How far back on the road was it 
that the man with the girl turned out?” 

“Jest back of the next bend,” piped the consumptive- 
looking man. 


Lark Garretson’s Game. 67 

“Then I’ll hurry on and see if I can overtake the 
fellow.” 

Our hero made as though he would start. 

“No, ye don’t!” shouted Pooh-Bah. “Leave this place 
without my permission and every man Jack of us’ll blaze 
away.” 

“What’s the matter with you, Garretson?” cried Phil, 
angrily. 

“I’ll show you. I’m going to have you in jail, that’s 
what I’m going to do.” 

“You’ve no right to stop me.” 

“Have, too. Got a warrant here from the justice of the 
peace. Pm the justice of the peace. Issued the warrant, 
by jings, and delegated myself to serve it. You can’t go 
agin’ the law, no sir-ee ! Can he, boys ?” 

“Nope!” chorused the “posse.” 

Although worried and angry, Phil could hardly resist 
an inclination to laugh. 

“That man that you passed,” he went on, an idea enter- 
ing his head, “has stolen one of my horses and abducted 
one of my young lady riders. If you gentlemen will turn 
and help me pursue and capture that man, I will promise 
to go with you peaceably. Come, is it a bargain ?” 

“I make no bargain with you,” was Pooh-Bah’s grumpy 
answer. “You committed assault and battery on a repre- 
sentative of the law” — here he swelled up and looked fierce 
— “an’ now you’ve got to stand the responsibility of it. 
Ain’t that so, boys ?” 

“Bet your life!” yauped the “posse.” 

“What you got to do,” continued Garretson, “is to turn 


68 


Lark Garretson’s Game. 


your hoss and ride into town ahead of us. We’ll keep 
you covered with our weppins all the way, so don’t try 
any foolishness. When we struck the show ground we 
seen ye gallopin’ into the woods, an’ I just about thought 
that if we took this road, an’ whipped up some, we’d 
ketch ye. I’m long-headed, an’ always was. Ain’t I, 
boys ?” 

“Sure!” bellowed the “posse.” 

“As for you, Mr. Rushington, just turn.” 

Phil made no move to obey. 

“T, u, r, n, turn,” spelled Garretson, accommodatingly. 
“Did you hear?” 

Phil heard the command very distinctly, but he was de- 
termined not to heed it. He was planning a dash in spite 
of the threatening weapons in front of him. He did not 
believe that Garretson, or any of his companions would 
dare shoot, if it came to a pinch, and with this belief 
uppermost, he was willing to run the risk. 

He was almost on the point of carrying his hastily 
formed purpose into effect, when more hoofbeats were 
heard, and Phil heaved a sigh of relief as Walt Arkwright 
and another man galloped into view, behind the buck- 
board. 

Who the other man was, our hero did not know. He 
was not connected with the show, and was a stranger, al- 
though he was mounted on one of the show horses. 

“Well, well !” cried Walt, as he and his companion drew 
to a halt beside the buckboard. “What are they trying 
to do to you, Phil ?” 

“Trying to arrest me and take me to jail,” answered 


Lark Garretson’s Game. 69 

our hero. “Very annoying, too, as they have interrupted 
my pursuit o-f the Imp.” 

Garretson, while this brief dialogue was going on, had 
looked at the big fellow beside Walt with paling face and 
falling jaw. 

“Making a fool of yourself, as usual, are you, Garret- 
son ?” queried the big fellow. 

“ ’Tain’t none of your put in, Gabe Gulliver,” answered 
Garretson. 

“I think it is. Your authority is absolutely no good 
outside of the corporation limits, and not much good in- 
side. You crossed the line a quarter of a mile back.” 

“What you givin’ us?” 

“Plain facts. What are you trying to do to Mr. Rush- 
ington ?” 

“He committed assault upon me as an officer of the 
law ” 

“Bosh ! I’ve heard all about that.” 

“I’ve got a warrant for him.” 

“Let me see it.” 

Garretson produced the document, and handed it to 
Gulliver, his hand shaking a trifle as he did so. 

Gulliver glanced at the paper, then tore it in pieces and 
scattered the pieces in the road. 

“What do you mean by that ?” cried Garretson. 

“You want to thank your lucky stars, Garretson, that I 
happened along. There’s one office in your town that you 
don’t hold, and that’s the office of mayor. If the mayor 
ever hears of this, you’ll be sorry. If you can swear the 
rest of your gang to secrecy, however, I’ll promise never 


70 Lark Garretson’s Game. 

to speak of the matter. You’ve got yourself in a mighty 
tight hole.” 

“What have I done ?” cried Garretson, in trepidation. 

“You’ve committed felo de se, habeas corpus , and a 
dozen other different things. I happened along just in 
time to save you. Get out of this, and see how quick 
you can get into town. You’re outside of your bailiwick, 
too, with those guns, and I ought to pinch you for going 
around armed in that bloodthirsty manner. Being the 
sheriff of the county, it’s my duty, understand ” 

“We didn’t know we was doin’ anything wrong,” said 
the one-eyed man. 

“Lark said he’d scare Rushington into giving us tickets, 
all around, into his show to-night,” creaked the man with 
the narrow chest. 

“This is worse than I thought,” muttered Gulliver, 
twisting his long mustache, reflectively. “That makes a 
quid pro quo out of the proceedings, and I don’t know 
whether I ought to let you off or not.” 

“I — I didn’t know what I was doin’,” whined Garretson. 
“Don’t do nothin’, Gabe. I’m a good feller — always was 
a good feller — you’re a good feller, too ” 

“And we’re all good fellers,” chorused the “posse.” 

“That’s so,” murmured Gulliver, apparently moved. 
“Well, if you’ll go right back to town and keep mum about 
this, I’ll let you off. If you say a word, though, I’ll be 
committing status quo ante , and I would be powerless 
to aid you, then.” 

“We won’t say a word, not a word,” shouted every one 


Lark Garretson’s Game. 


7i 

in the wagon, and Garretson drove the buckboard out of 
sight up the road at a rattling pace. 

The moment the wagon was gone Gulliver leaned over 
on his horse’s neck and fairly roared. 

Walt had also enjoyed the episode hugely, and likewise 
Phil, but neither of the two chums could forget the plight 
of Eona. 

“Mr. Gulliver, Mr. Rushington,” said Walt, introducing 
his companion after his laughter had somewhat subsided. 
“Mr. Gulliver is the sheriff of this county, and he hap- 
pened to be in the main tent looking at the show when 
Despereaux ran off with Eona.” 

“Was Despereaux in Wister’s prop trunk?” 

“Yes — how did you know that?” 

“Never mind,” answered our hero, shaking the sheriff’s 
hand. “Go on, Walt.” 

“Eona had just come in to do her act,” went on Walt, 
“when the Imp leaped out of the trunk, sprang on her 
horse and dashed away. The cries of the girls and the 
shouts of the men in the dressing-tent gave Gulliver the 
idea that something was wrong and he ran back. 

“Just when we saw you take up the pursuit that buck- 
board full of terrors came along the pike, and I heard 
Garretson call out that they would drive along the road 
and head you off. As soon as I could, I had Curly fix 
up myself and the sheriff with horses and we came along. 
Would have got here sooner, but did a little reconnoiter- 
ing by the way, hoping to find either you or the Imp.” 

“I’m certainly under obligations to you, Mr. Gulliver,” 
said the young showman. 


72 


Lark Garretson’s Game. 


“Don’t mention it, Mr. Rushington,” answered Gulliver, 
heartily. “It was worth a tenner to me to have that fun 
with Garretson. If the fool-killer ever strikes his town 
there’ll be a whole lot of town offices vacant. He’s a regu- 
lar blockhead, that Lark, but still, in his blundering way, 
he’s capable of making a deal of trouble.” 

“You’re right, and he’s hampered me in my pursuit of 
Despereaux until I fear the villain has made good his 
escape.” 

“Not so, Mr. Rushington,” put in the sheriff; “I can 
get out a posse on two hours’ notice, and, if necessary, 
we’ll ransack the county from one end to the other.” 

“That won’t be necessary, senor. Mr. Rushington, 
your Girl Centaur is here, and unharmed. She will tell 
you for herself. Look !” 

The three men turned, and their astonishment was great 
upon beholding Eona and the Mexicana in the road be- 
hind them, the two mounted on Eona’s horse. 


CHAPTER IX. 


A SURPRISE. 

Phil was probably much more astounded at the abrupt 
appearance of the two girls than was the sheriff and Walt, 
for he knew the deep enmity cherished against the Girl 
Centaur by the Mexicana, and had had two ocular demon- 
strations of it. He could hardly believe his eyes, now, 
when he saw them riding along the road more like sisters 
than foes. Eona was smiling, and as he looked she kissed 
her hand at him with a pretty gesture. The Mexicana 
slipped from the horse to the ground. 

“Well, well!” exclaimed Phil. “Pinch me, Walt. I 
must be dreaming.” 

“Just what I was going to ask you to do to me, Rush.” 

“You can’t be so surprised as I am, and I’ll tell you 
why, Walt, some time.” 

“I do not wonder that you are amazed, senor,” remarked 
the Mexicana, “but I have saved your girl rider from Des- 
pereaux. Is it not so, Eona?” 

She turned to the Girl Centaur. 

“Yes, Philip,” answered Eona, “it is true. Despereaux 
carried me to an old hut in the woods, hitched the horse, 
tied my hands and left me there while he went out toward 
the road to make sure that you were not on his track. The 
moment he started the Mexicana came, released me, and 
brought me here, as you see.” 

“For what I have done, senor,” added the Mexicana, 


74 


A Surprise. 

“will you pardon me and Despereaux? What I mean is, 
will you let us go our ways and not have the law on us ?” 

Our hero looked toward Eona hesitatingly. 

“Yes, Philip,” pleaded Eona. “I have already promised 
her.” 

“Since you have already promised,” said Phil, “the mat- 
ter is taken out of my hands, and I can do nothing but 
agree, which I do, here and now.” 

“Thank you,” said the Mexicana, humbly. 

“What has worked this great change in you?” asked 
Phil, looking at the Mexicana with wondering eyes. 

“The truth, senor,” she answered. “You were right 
and I was wrong.” 

“About what?” 

“Her!” She nodded toward Eona. “She cared noth- 
ing for Despereaux, but her heart is given to — I must not 
tell. One woman’s heart can read another’s very plainly. 
Despereaux could not win Eona by fair means, so he tried 
madly to abduct her. He was very foolish, and when the 
liquor leaves his head, and his brain clears, he will say so 
himself. When he laid his plans, he thought that your 
show would be destroyed, that you would be ruined, and 
that there would be no one to protect Eona. But the plan 
failed — it was Eona herself who helped to thwart it. In- 
furiated because the plot had been baffled, Despereaux be- 
came crazed. Leaping onto the back of the horse, he stole 
Eona out from under the eyes of you all. 

“I was near the hut — it has been our rendezvous while 
here awaiting our show to come. Despereaux did not 
know I was around, but he told me, after I showed Eona 


A Surprise. 


75 


and him, to you, talking together in the woods — he told 
me, after that, that'Eona hated him and he knew it, but 
that he would humble her proud spirit to the dust and 
make her crawl on her knees to his feet and beg for his 
love. 

‘Those words, senor, made me Eona’s friend. I knev/, 
then, that she was not seeking to lure Despereaux from 
me, as I had all along believed. I tried to take her life, 
but she has pardoned me for that. Now that you have 
promised not to prosecute us, I will go away, back to 
the hut where Despereaux is.” 

“How will he receive you, after your taking his pris- 
oner away from him ?” asked our hero. 

She shrugged her shoulders. 

“He dare not touch me,” she answered. 

“Dare not ?” echoed Phil. 

“Do you not remember — these ?” She crossed her arms 
on her bosom, her slender fingers tapping her shoulders. 
“I have two left, you know.” 

“Ah, the Brahmin cobras. I had forgot!” 

“Despereaux will not forget. He fears to lay a hand 
on me, whether intoxicated or not. When the liquor is 
out of his brain, he will thank me for what I did. Nay, 
more,” she blushed, “perhaps he will reward me for sav- 
ing him by giving me his love.” 

This secret of her heart came forth before them all, not 
brazenly, for the reddening of her dusky cheeks proved 
how sweet to her was the thought of gaining the affection 
of the man she loved ; but she who had disguised herself 
in male attire, and had followed Despereaux to keep him 


j6 A Surprise. 

from wooing another, was not the one to hold a key on 
her passions. 

“Certainly,” said Phil, “I wish you every happiness. I 
cannot understand a woman of your capricious tempera- 
ment, but that is hardly necessary. You have acquitted 
yourself with credit, in the present instance, and that is all 
I care to know.” 

“I am glad that Saunders’ plot failed,” said the Mexi- 
cana. 

“If it had not,” returned our hero, “neither you, nor 
Despereaux, nor Juggins would have gotten off so easily. 
That is also something for which you are to thank my 
little equestrienne. If you recall it, you refused to give 
me any particulars, when, by a slip of the tongue, you de- 
clared that my show would never leave town.” 

‘T did wrong, but that is all past,” said the Mexicana. 
“We part, and our paths shall never cross again. Adios !” 

“Good-by,” said Phil. 

As the Mexicana walked down the road, past Eona’s 
horse, she paused, caught the little rider’s hand and kissed 
it. Then she hurried off into the woods. 

“Whew !” said Walt. “She doesn’t look much like the 
whirlwind that dashed out of the main tent this morning. 
She looked like a termagant then, and now she’s sweet- 
ness itself. And to think that I wanted to book her as an 
attraction in the show for tent number two ! I’d just as 
soon have an uncaged tigress around me. Rush, as to have 
her.” 

“You also thought, if I remember rightly,” smiled 


A Surprise. 77 

Phil, “that the Bottle Imp would be a good man to en- 
gage.” 

“That’s so ! I believed that we had found a prize.” 

“Well, you were not far wrong there, old chum. We 
did.” 

“Did what?” 

“Find a prize. Or, rather, we found that we had a 
prize. I refer to Eona.” 

He waved his hand toward the Girl Centaur, and she 
flushed with pleasure. 

“It was she, Walt, as you know,” continued Rush, 
“who gave us that tip about Bulkley. He had saturated 
one of the tent walls with kerosene, and was in the act of 
applying a match when I pounced on him.” 

“Well, well!” muttered Walt, his eyes kindling with 
admiration as they fell on the girl. “I always thought a 
heap of you, Eona, you know that.” 

“You always think a heap of every girl, Walt,” laughed 
Phil. 

“That’s just the difference between us, old chum,” 
drawled Walt, lugubriously, “all the girls think a heap of 
you, and I think a heap of all the girls. You get too 
much of a good thing, and I don’t get any of it.” 

Eona laughed at this sally, which she must have en- 
joyed thoroughly, for she seldom gave way to merriment. 

“You were entitled to a great deal of credit, Philip,” 
she said, with an arch look at the young showman. “In 
detecting Bulkley, I mean,” she added. 

“How so?” 

“The Mexicana told me how she dragged you into the 


A Surprise. 


78 

woods for the purpose of showing you what an artful 
creature I was, and proving that I had deceived you. 
Evidently you were true to your promise to me, for you 
acted on my warning without question.” 

“I had confidence in you, little girl.” 

“I thank you for that, and shall do my best always to 
deserve it,” she returned, earnestly. 

“You will always deserve it, I am sure of that. But I 
would like to have you tell me just how you got that bit 
of information.” 

“I will tell you — some time,” she said, with a momen- 
tary glance at the sheriff and Walt. 

“What is this, anyhow?” grinned the sheriff. “Show 
talk?” 

“It has a good deal to do with the annoying rivalries 
of the business, Mr. Gulliver,” answered Phil. “And, 
speaking of shows, I wonder how the Mossman & Rush- 
ington Circus and Plippodrome is getting along without 
its manager, assistant manager and prize rider?” 

“Guess we’d better ride back and find out,” remarked 
Walt. “You’ll go with us, Gulliver?” 

“Have to. You see, I’ve got one of your horses. Be- 
sides, I’ve got about a dozen relatives back there in town, 
and they’ve invited me to a spread-eagle supper. Guess I 
can do justice to it, too. Another thing, that fellow ran 
off with the young lady just about the middle of the 
show. I enjoyed all I saw of it, up to that point, and aim 
to see the rest at the evening performance.” 

“Be sure and come,” said Phil, “and bring your rela- 
tives. Walt, see to it that Mr. Gulliver has a dozen 


A Surprise. 


79 


tickets and the best reserved chairs. He did us a good 
turn to-day, and I want him to understand that we appre- 
ciate it.” 

‘‘Gosh, I didn’t expect this!” exclaimed the sheriff, as 
Walt straightway presented him with the tickets. “Much 
obliged. But I didn’t do anything to brag about. Had a 
lot of fun out of it, at that. I’ll bet Garretson keeps 
shady for a week, after this.” 

As they jogged along back toward the grounds, Phil 
dropped in the rear and rode beside Eona. 

“Now, what about that talk you had with Despereaux, 
little girl?” said he. 

“I’m afraid you’ll think me an artful creature, but when 
I saw how much you were concerned about Saunders and 
his plot against the show, and how anxious you felt to 
learn something about the schemes of Despereaux, the 
Mexicana and Juggins, I thought I — I would do what I 
could to find out.” 

“Go on,” urged our hero, as she faltered a little. “I 
believe you are more of a prize than I thought a moment 
ago. What did you do?” 

“I determined to play the part of an artful creature. 
When I left the horse tent and started toward the hotel, 
the road was crowded with people coming to the circus. 
In the crowd I suddenly met Despereaux face to face. I 
was almost sure I would, if I went afoot instead of taking 
the carriage you offered to secure for me. That is the 
reason I hastened off so fast when Dora came in on us so 
— so unexpectedly. You remember?” 

“I do,” said Phil. “Proceed.” 


8o 


A Surprise. 


“Well, Despereaux said he must see me, and asked me 
to step away from the road to a place where we could con- 
verse unobserved. Under ordinary circumstances, I would 
have repelled him. At that moment, however, I felt that 
I might do Philip Rushington a good turn and partly re- 
pay him for the many good turns he had done me. So I 
walked a little ways into the woods with him, and pre- 
tended that I was very angry with you. I deceived Des- 
pereaux, but there was no other way to accomplish what 
I had set out to do. I led him to believe that you and I 
had quarreled, that you had given me two weeks’ notice, 
and that I was very bitter against you. ‘Never mind,’ 
said Despereaux, ‘we’re going to fix Rushington.’ ‘How ?’ 
I asked. He wouldn’t tell me, but said that Bulkley had 
been hired to do something. The hard part of my work 
after that was to get away from him. Fortune favored 
me, for Despereaux, it seems, caught a glimpse of the 
Mexicana spying upon him through the trees. After I 
returned to the grounds I wrote that short warning and 
gave it to Walt. Did I do well, Philip?” 

“No one could have done better,” answered Phil, and 
he spoke the truth. 


CHAPTER X. 


A RUNAWAY. 

“We’re a rider short, Phil.” 

“How’s that, Walt?” 

“Eona’s not able to go into the ring this afternoon. 
She’s completely broken up over that trouble she had 
yesterday.” 

“I don’t wonder at it. She went through enough, in 
that last town, to shatter the nerves of a much stronger 
girl than she is. I told her we’d try and get along with- 
out her for a day or so, but she insisted that she was able 
to go on with her work.” 

“So she told me, but I could see she was badly upset 
and not equal to the task. We do not want any acci- 
dents, Phil, so I took the responsibility of ordering her to 
remain at the hotel. I had to order her, for she would 
not have remained otherwise.” 

“You did exactly right, old man. An accident in the 
ring would not only be a bad thing for Eona, but for the 
show, as well. I would like it, though, if we had a rider 
to take the girl’s place. One of the other riders will have 
to double up — either Mamie or Isabel? Will you see to 
it, Walt?” 

“Certainly, Phil; but, instead of having one of the 
other riders do a double turn, how would, you like to try 
an unknown — a hurdle-racer?” 

The Mossman & Rushington Circus and Hippodrome 


82 


A Runaway. 


had arrived, early that morning, in another small Southern 
town. The journey from the last stand had been smoothly 
made, and everything connected with the unloading, the 
putting up of the tents and the parade had run like clock- 
work. 

Walt's mention of the unknown hurdle-rider claimed 
Phil’s instant attention. 

“Some rider seeking an engagement, Walt?” 

“Yes. He’s been hanging around the lot looking for 
you all morning.” 

“Some country boy, I suppose, whose eyes have been 
dazzled and head turned by the glory and glamour of the 
life as viewed from the seats. Probably he has learned 
to stand on his head on one of his father’s plow horses 
and ride twice around the barn.” Our hero laughed. “I 
hardly think he’ll pass, Walt.” 

Walt laughed, too, but at the same time cast a puzzled 
look into his chum’s face. 

“In the old days at Springvale,” said he, “you were 
something of a mind reader, but you must have lost the 
gift. You’re way off in that guess. The boy is a slender, 
well-dressed young fellow and looks as though he might 
be town-bred. He wouldn’t give his name, or any other 
details connected with himself.” Walt cast a searching 
glance about the grounds. “He doesn’t seem to be here 
now. Probably he got discouraged and went off. I’ll see 
Mamie and see if she’ll do an extra turn. She’s been 
practicing at standing riding, in the Roman fashion, and 
if she’s able to do a specialty of that kind, she could make 
up as an altogether different girl.” 


A Runaway. 


83 


They were on the point of separating, when a man in 
tattered clothes, his face dirty and covered with a ragged 
beard, slouched up to them. Removing the butt of a 
cigar at which he was puffing, the hobo took off his 
crownless hat and ducked his head. 

“Say, boss,” said he, “d’ye want ter hire a wild man fer 
yer menagerie — feller yer have ter keep chained an’ that 
ye feed with raw meat every afternoon follerin’ the big 
show ?” 

“Are you the wild man’s manager?” asked Phil, tipping 
Walt a wink. 

“Nope — I’m him. I make up fer the part, an’ you bet 
it’s a daisy.” 

“Well, sir, I can’t engage you. We don’t want any 
fakes in this show.” 

“Shucks! The public likes ter be humbugged. Ole 
P. T. Barnum said that himself. But, say, how’d ye like 
ter engage one o’ these missin’ links — a regular what-is- 
it, that ’u’d keep the perfessers an’ the scientific push 
guessin’? Hey?” 

“Would you make up for that part, too?” 

“Sure. He grinned. “Wouldn’t have ter make up 
much, neither.” 

“But I just told you we didn’t want any fakes.” 

“Well, I kin eat fire an’ swaller b’ilin’ lead. No fake 
about that.” 

“That’s too old.” 

“I kin juggle with butcher-knives, boss.” 

“There are whiskers on that trick as well as the other,” 


8 4 


A Runaway. 


“Mebby you’ve got an openin’ fer a man ter sell pea- 
nuts an’ red lemonade?” 

“No. If you could ride a horse and turn a double 
somersault through a burning hoop, or something of that 
kind, we might talk business.” 

“Ridin’ is out o’ my line. I might make a stagger ter 
hang onter yer trick donkey an’ play the Rube.” 

“We’ve got a man for that.” 

“No other openin’?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Then, possibly, you’ve got a quarter you’d like to in- 
vest in a physical wreck that’s pinin’ fer a sandwich.” 

The young circus owner tossed the hobo a coin, and 
the latter slouched off, waving his topless tile, and mum- 
bling, “Thanky, sir.” 

Walt and Phil watched him as he shambled across the 
lot toward the road, but were suddenly startled by loud 
cries, a pattering of hoofs and the wild rattle of a wagon. 

Whirling about in their tracks, they cast quick glances 
across the open meadow that lay at the back of the tents 
and saw a four-horse mule team careening madly toward 
the lot. 

The large wagon behind them had been heaped up with 
hay, but this load was being jolted off behind in forkfuls, 
and a trail of it lay along the zigzag route taken by the 
runaway. 

A driver was still on the seat of the wagon, but he 
had lost all control of the mules, apparently, and could 
do nothing but yell for every one to clear the path. 

“It’s Reddy!” exclaimed Walt. “He went off to get 


A Runaway. 85 

some hay for the stock. Great Scott! The mules are 
heading this way!” 

“Yes, and there’s some one in the path they’re taking, 
too,” returned Phil, his anxiety and interest at once 
aroused. “If he doesn’t look out, he’ll get right in the 
track of the runaway. Hi, there ! Come this way ! 
Quick!” 

A boy had rolled out from under one of the canvas 
vans, where he had evidently been sleeping. No doubt 
the noise of the wagon and the shouts of the driver had 
aroused him, for he seemed half asleep and utterly bewil- 
dered. He started to run in one direction, and then, on 
hearing our hero’s shout, turned and made in another. 

As he voiced his cry, Phil sprang toward the boy. By 
some strange fatality, the mules headed straight for the 
lad, and whenever he turned to get away, they turned so 
as to intercept him. Phil could not understand this, but 
just then he had no time to indulge in conjecture. 

“Jump up into the canvas wagon !” he called. “There, 
right in front of you! Hurry!” 

The boy stood as though dazed, turning around and 
around. The mules drew closer and closer, bearing 
down on him at terrific strides, the driver tugging vainly 
at the lines. 

But, at last, the lad seemed to realize his peril. Giving 
one startled glance at the runaway, he turned and started 
quickly toward the wagon from under which he had 
crawled only a few moments before. He had not taken a 
dozen steps, however, before he stumbled over a stone 
and fell. He tried to rise, but fell again, and then lay 


86 


A Runaway. 


motionless on the ground, seemingly paralyzed with fright 
and incapable of exerting himself. 

Some distance away was gathered a little group of 
employees and performers, among the latter being the star 
rider, Isabel, and Mamie and Dora. 

The horrified cries of the women mingled with the 
hoarse shouts of the men ; but all voices were hushed as 
Phil Rushington was seen to leap across the intervening 
space that separated him from the path of the runaway. 

Half a dozen yards in front of the prostrate boy Phil 
came to a halt. Jerking off his coat, he began to wave 
it in the hope of frightening the leaders of the team, and 
causing them to swerve aside from the motionless form 
lying directly in their way. This maneuver was unsuc- 
cessful, and Phil cast aside his coat, waited until the lead- 
ers were abreast of him, and then leaped and caught the 
bridle of the nearest mule with both hands. 

There, swinging back and forth, but clinging like a 
leech, Phil hung, diverting the team from its course and 
bringing it to a stop, the rear wheels of the wagon 
within an inch of the boy’s head ! 

Jumping down, the driver flew to the mules’ heads, and 
Walt, who had hastened after our hero, picked up the 
boy and set him on his feet. 

‘‘Why,” exclaimed Walt, “it’s the hurdle-rider, the un- 
known ! He got out of that by the skin of his teeth, Rush, 
thanks to you !” 


CHAPTER XI. 


ANOTHER ACCIDENT. 

“Encore, Rushy, me b’y ! Do it ag’in !” 

This from Mamie, the Irish girl, as she and the other 
two hurried to the scene. 

“You saved the lad’s life, Rush,” said Isabel, the star 
rider, her beautiful face aglow, “and I feel as though I 
could give you a good hug.” 

“I not only feel that way,” added Dora Warren, her 
eyes sparkling, “but I’m going to do it. There, now !” 

With that she threw her arms about Phil, who had been 
her friend for many years, and gave him a swift embrace. 

“Don’t be disappointed, Isabel,” laughed Walt. “You 
may embrace me, if you like.” 

“I wouldn’t be guilty of such poor taste,” began Isabel, 
tossing her head. 

Phil turned toward the boy. As Walt had said, he 
was well-dressed, of slender build and had about him the 
unmistakable air of one brought up in the city. He had 
short, curly hair and a pleasing face. As soon as he could 
do so, he caught Phil’s hand in his. 

“As the lady has just said,” he remarked, “you have 
saved my life and I wish you to understand that I am 
grateful to you for what you have done. Am I speaking 
to Mr. Rushington?” 

“Yes.” 

“I have been hanging around here all morning to get 


88 


Another Accident. 


a word with you. I am a rider, sir, and would like to have 
you engage me for your show.” 

At this Mamie gave the boy a critical glance. Evidently 
she saw nothing in his appearance to impress her with 
his horsemanship, for she flashed our hero a quizzical 
look as she turned away and followed Isabel toward the 
dressing-tent. 

“One thing at a time,” said Phil. “Why were you un- 
der the canvas van ?” 

“I was tired, sir, and crept under there to rest. All 
at once I heard the runaway team and it frightened me 
for the moment. I had been asleep and my mind was not 
as alert as it should have been. When I saw the mules 
bearing right down in my direction, I was bewildered and 
hardly knew which way to turn. It all seems like some 
horrid dream, and you know the rest, Mr. Rushington, as 
well, or better, than I do.” 

Phil addressed himself to the driver who was hold- 
ing the heads of the forward mules. 

“How did the team happen to get out of your con- 
trol?” he demanded. 

“They got scared at somethin’ an’ started for the lot 
lickety split,” answered the man. “I threw all my heft 
onto the lines, but couldn’t hold on.” 

Our hero had a vague suspicion that all was not right. 
The mules had seemed to follow the boy whichever way 
he turned, as though they might not have been so much 
out of the driver’s control as he had asserted. Yet what 
motive could the driver have had for seeking to run the 


Another Accident. 89 

lad down? None, apparently, and Phil dismissed his 
suspicions. 

“You are helping the groom, are you, Reddy?” he 
asked. 

“Yes, sir; by Mr. Arkwright’s orders.” 

“Very well. Go on with your load. In future, how- 
ever, see that you use a little more care if you have any 
desire to hold your job.” 

Reddy climbed on to the wagon and drove off. Phil 
watched and thought he saw him throw a malignant 
glance at the boy as he passed. 

“Do you know that man, my lad ?” he asked. 

“No, sir.” 

“Never saw him before?” 

“Never, that I can remember.” 

“Well, let it pass. Mr. Arkwright tells me that you 
wish to ride for us?” 

“Oh, yes, sir, if you will only let me !” 

The boy’s words were eager and an appealing look 
came to his face. 

“Have you ever ridden in a circus before?” 

“No, sir ; but at the riding academy I He stopped 

himself abruptly. “That is to say,” he went on, in some 
confusion, “I have sperit a good deal of time on a horse’s 
back, and I think I could please you if you would only 
let me try.” 

Our hero looked at him thoughtfully. 

“What is your name?” he asked. 

The boy started to speak, but colored and stammered. 

“You must be frank with me,” said Phil “If you can- 


90 


Another Accident. 


not convince me that you have a right to be here, I will 
not take you on, no matter how fine a rider you are.” 

“I cannot tell you my real name, but you may call me 
Francis.” 

“Francis what?” 

“Francis- — Carter.” 

“Have you run away from your home, Francis?” 

“I have no home to run away from.” 

“No relatives, at all?” 

“Not one in the world, Mr. Rushington.” 

There was truth in the boy’s trembling words and Phil 
believed him. 

“You look like a young man who has some means, 
Francis,” went on Rush. “Are you forced to do this for 
a living?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Then is it because the romance of circus life appeals 
to you?” 

“Great heavens, no! It is not that, it is not that!” 

For once our hero was nonplused. 

“Are you trying to take refuge with this show in order 
to escape persecution of some kind?” 

Francis shook his head. 

“Then why are you so anxious for an engagement?” 

“Because I must have it, sir !” he exclaimed, wildly. 
“You must let me ride ! Oh, say you will, please say you 
will !” 

Tears glimmered in the boy’s eyelashes as he flung 
himself at Phil’s feet. 

“Give him a trial, Philip,” pleaded Dora, in a low tone. 


Another Accident. 


9i 

‘‘There is something mysterious about him, but I am sure 
there is nothing wrong.” 

“All right, Francis,” said Phil. “I’ll give you a trial. 
We’ll have to hurry, though, for it will soon be time for 
the doors to open. What kind of a horse would you 
like?” 

“Any kind, Mr. Rushington,” returned the boy. 

“A light saddle?” 

“No, and no bridle either. Just a band with a leather 
loop for the hands, that’s all.” 

Phil called to the groom and gave orders for Eona’s 
horse to be sent into the main tent. To this place Phil, 
Walt, Francis and Grout, the ringmaster, at once repaired. 
To the latter, the situation was briefly explained and he 
possessed himself of his whip as they passed through the 
dressing-room. 

Under the large canvas everything was ready for the 
afternoon performance — seat-s in place, ring roped and 
tanbark spread. Phil and Walt seated themselves beside 
the ring and Grout and Francis went inside, the latter 
throwing aside his coat and vest and kicking oft* his 
shoes. 

“Embroidered stockings, or Pm an Indian !” exclaime-d 
Walt. “The unknown is something of a dude, Rush.” 

“He’s a lithely-built, graceful young fellow,” answered 
Phil, following the boy’s movements with an admiring 
eye. “I have an idea, too, that he knows exactly what 
he’s about.” 

Just then Eona’s horse was brought to the entrance of 
the ring and turned loose. As Francis had directed, the 


92 


Another Accident. 


animal was bare of trappings, save for a. band of leather 
encircling the body back of the forelegs. To the band 
was attached a stout loop for a handhold. 

On reaching the ring, the horse, trained to the work, 
struck into a measured gallop, and Francis, giving a short 
run, made a standing mount with all the ease and grace of 
an accomplished equestrian. 

“Yes,” said Walt, “he knows his business all right. In 
fact, he goes at it like a master hand. All this merely 
deepens the mystery that surrounds him.” 

Around and around the ring ran the horse, the boy 
riding with one foot on the animal’s neck, then on the side 
at the hip and turning backward somersaults like an 
acrobat. 

“Now for the hurdles,” he said, as the horse slowed 
down for a brief walk. 

The hurdles were brought and Phil held one at one side 
of the ring while Walt stood opposite with another. The 
horse was then put to the gallop again and Francis 
dropped to the ground and took each jump with the horse, 
each time landing lightly astride his back. 

“I guess that will do,” said Phil. 

“But I’d like to show you the trick with which I shall 
end my turn,” answered Francis. “Please let me.” 

“Very well.” 

Faster and faster ran the horse under the boy’s nervous 
urging, aided by the ringmaster’s whip. 

“Now for the hurdles!” cried Francis, and Phil and 
Walt placed them quickly. 

Just as the horse was about to reach the one held by 


Another Accident. 


93 


the young showman, the boy caught hold of the loop 
and lifted his feet in the air, all his weight imposed on the 
leather band. While in this posture, the horse took the 
hurdle. 

“Bravo !” exclaimed Phil. 

“Very well done !” echoed Grout. “This act is a win- 
ner, sir,” he added, in a low voice, as he passed Phil. 

Without lowering himself to the horse’s back, the boy 
continued his gallop around the ring until Walt’s hurdle 
was reached. The horse took this leap steadily, but, just 
as he was poised over the hurdle, his rider dropped down- 
ward, voicing a startled cry as he fell. 

Walt turned the hurdle so that the boy’s head merely 
grazed it in the downward fall and the horse cleared both 
barrier and boy, being halted by Grout, who leaped to the 
bridle. 

Francis was not hurt and sprang up at once, the leather 
band in his hands. 

“It was not my fault,” he cried; “see! The band 
broke. Look at it, Mr. Rushington.” 

“I see,” said Phil, taking the band and examining the 
break. 

As he looked he gave a start. Then he looked closer. 

“What’s the matter, old man ?” asked Walt. 

“Nothing — now,” returned Phil. “You have a very 
good act, Francis, and it is hard for me to believe that 
you’ve never been in a ring before. Do you care to ride 
for us after the two — accidents you have just met with?” 

“Certainly, sir !” answered the boy, considerably aston- 
ished. 


94 


Another Accident. 


‘‘I should think you might be afraid of having more of 
these — accidents.” 

Phil placed a lingering emphasis on the last word and 
both Walt and the ringmaster wondered what he meant. 

“I am not afraid, Mr. Rushington,” said Francis, 
stoutly. “I will look to the strap myself, next time.” 

“It will not be possible for us to take you on for the 
rest of the season,” continued Phil, “but I would like to 
have you take the place of one of my young lady riders 
who is not able to appear for a few performances.” 

“I do not want a long engagement,” answered Francis. 
“Two or three performances, I think, are about all I 
would care for.” 

Phil was mystified. Here was a rider desperately eager 
for a short engagement, to whom a consideration of 
money counted as nothing and for whom the life had no 
attractions! What was there behind of it all? Now, at 
the last moment, he was more than tempted to tell the 
boy he wanted nothing to do with him. 

Something of this inclination must have shown in Phil’s 
face, for Francis ran to him and began entreating for an 
opportunity to ride, if only at one performance. 

“We’ll call it settled,” said Phil, although reluctantly. 
“I will pay you a reasonable price for the work you 
do ” 

“That is immaterial. I will leave the matter of pay- 
ment entirely in your hands.” 

“I will expect you to ride in the grand entry, and we 
shall have to find some tights for you, somewhere.” 

The boy flushed a deep crimson. 


Another Accident. 


95 


“If you please, Mr. Rushington,” he answered, hastily, 
“I have a suit at the hotel and I would like to ride in 
that.” 

“It is about time for the doors to open and the per- 
formers are nearly, , all dressed now.” 

“I will be ready in ten minutes.” 

“You evidently came prepared to engage with us,” ob- 
served Phil. 

“I was determined to do that even if I had to pay you 
something for the privilege of riding in your ring.” 
While talking, he had been putting on his shoes, vest, coat 
and hat. “I will be back in plenty of time,” he said, 
finally, starting for the door. 

“Whew !” exclaimed Walt. “What do you make out of 
this, Rush?” 

“Very little, as yet, Walt. I wish you’d bring Curly, 
the groom, in here. I want to see him for a moment.” 

Our hero had something on his mind and Walt won-, 
dered what it could be. 


CHAPTER XII. 


REDDY VOWS VENGEANCE. 

Curly, the groom, was a man whom Phil had once dis- 
charged because of a part he was bribed to play in a 
villainous plot which placed the young showman in peril 
of life and limb. After his discharge, Curly followed the 
show from town to town, begging our hero at every op- 
portunity to take him back and give him another trial 

Pie was an excellent man around the horses and, be- 
sides that, he seemed so thoroughly repentant that Phil 
finally took him back. He was now on probation, how- 
ever, and liable to discharge in case he showed the slight- 
est laxity in attending to his duties. 

When he sent for Curly, Phil felt that he had a case 
against him. In a few moments Walt came in with the 
groom, the latter looking very apprehensive and uneasy. 

“When I took you back, Curly,” said Phil, “it was with 
the understanding that you were to remain with the show 
only so long as you acted on the square and gave us no 
chance to suspect you of any underhand work.” 

“I understand that, Mr. Rushington, and I’ve been on 
the square ever since you took me back. I defy any one 
to prove to the contrary.” 

Our hero held up the leather band for inspection. 

“We had an accident while trying the new rider, 
Curly,” proceeded Phil. “This strap broke while the 


97 


Reddy Vows Vengeance. 

horse was taking a hurdle. The boy was not injured, 
however, although he might have been — very seriously.” 

“I don’t see how you could hold me responsible for the 
breaking of the strap, sir.” 

“All the horse trappings are under your charge, are 
they not?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Could any one tamper with saddles, bridles, or any- 
thing else, without your knowing it?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Then how do you account for the fact that this strap 
was cut three-quarters of the way through?” 

“Cut ?” gasped Curly. 

Phil silently presented the two ends of the supposedly 
broken strap for the inspection of the groom. As could 
plainly be seen, the strap had been cut almost through with 
a sharp knife. During the greater part of Francis’ per- 
formances, the strap had held; but when he rested his 
entire weight upon it in a steady pull against the uncut 
portion, it had given way. 

Walt and Grout were as greatly surprised as was the 
groom. 

“I know nothing about it, Mr. Rushington !” ex- 
claimed Curly. “I swear to you that I do not !” 

“If no one could tamper with the trappings without 
your knowledge, as you have just said, you must know 
something about this, Curly. It will have to be ex- 
plained.” 

“I can’t explain it — it’s a mystery to me. The whole 
matter looks bad, but I am innocent of any intention of 


9 8 


Reddy Vows Vengeance. 


doing wrong. Why, sir, the giving way of that strap 
might have killed the boy !” 

“It might, certainly. Was the strap all right when you 
cinched it about the horse?” 

“It was all right when I gave it to Reddy, sir. I looked 
it over myself.” 

“What had Reddy to do with it?” queried Phil, quickly. 

“He was helping me about the horses, sir. Mr. Ark- 
wright’s orders, he said.” 

“My orders were for him to hitch up and go for that 
hay. The roads were muddy and he had to take four 
mules to draw the load. The man that Carpenter had 
contracted with for forage failed to deliver it, as you 
know, Rush.” 

“Yes, I know all about that. Reddy told you that Mr. 
Arkwright had ordered him to help you about the horses, 
did he, Curly?” 

“That’s what he told me.” 

“Didn’t it strike you as queer that another man should 
be sent to help you when there was not enough work to 
more than keep you busy?” 

“I certainly thought it queer, but I ain’t supposed to 
know Mr. Arkwright’s business.” 

“Well, you gave the strap to Reddy. He put it on the 
horse, did he?” 

“Yes, sir, and then led the horse to the dressing-room. 
I don’t know who took the horse from him there.” 

“You may not know it, Curly,” said Phil, “but this is a 
critical condition of things for you. Unless it can be 


Reddy Vows Vengeance. 99 

proved that you acted in good faith, the period of your 
engagement with this show is about up.” 

“Mr. Rushington,” declared Curly, shaking like a leaf 
in his excitement, “if you discharge me you will be dis- 
charging an innocent man.” 

“I would like some proof of that, aside from your sim- 
ple assurance.” 

“I will try and prove it, sir, if you will only give me a 
little time.” 

“You may have this afternoon, Curly, on the condi- 
tion that you do not go near Reddy, or speak a word to 
him.” 

“Very good, sir.” 

Curly passed out and our hero and Walt followed him. 
Near the stable tent, sitting on a bag of oats and puffing 
at a cob pipe, was Reddy. He cast an inquiring look at 
the groom as the latter brushed past and then turned his 
eyes on Phil and Walt. 

It was evident that Reddy had a premonition of trouble, 
for he knocked the ashes out of his pipe, slipped the cob 
affair into his pocket and got up scowling. 

Reddy had been so nicknamed from the shock of fiery 
hair that crept low down on his retreating forehead, from 
a bristling beard of the same color that covered his cheeks 
and chin and from the purplish carmine hue of his com- 
plexion. Report had it that he was a prize fighter, a hard 
citizen generally, and a man to be feared. 

Walt had always entertained the idea that they would, 
some time or other, have a good deal of trouble with 
Reddy, but so far the fellow had broken none of the 

l L. of C. 


ICO 


Reddy Vows Vengeance. 

rules of conduct which Phil had laid down for the guid- 
ance of all employees about the show. 

After putting the pipe in his pocket and getting up, 
the driver lurched toward Phil with a tough swagger, 
head bent and murky eyes leering out from under their 
bushy red brows. 

'‘He’s a bruiser, Rush,” muttered Walt. “Handle him 
easily and don’t give him an opportunity to stir up any 
trouble.” 

“I’ll handle him as he deserves to be handled,” re- 
turned Phil, a resolute gleam in his eyes, “and if he stirs 
up trouble, he’ll have to take the consequences of it.” 

Thereupon, our hero approached Reddy and they both 
stopped, the latter looking the young Springvale athlete 
over with an up and down movement of his shifty eyes. 

“Reddy,” said Phil, with quiet firmness, “I want to 
know why you tried to run down that boy with the mule 
team?” 

“Didn’t try to run him down. Them mules had the 
bits between their teeth an’ I couldn’t do a thing with 
’em.” 

“You can’t talk that to me! Whichever way that boy 
ran, you headed the mules to follow him. What was 
your object?” 

“If you’ve been able to guess that much,” sneered 
Reddy, “you can guess the rest.” 

“Why did you tell Curly that Mr. Arkwright had or- 
dered you to help him?” 

“ ’Cause Mr. Arkwright did.” 

“That’s a lie!” cried Walt. 


IOI 


Reddy Vows Vengeance. 

Muttering an oath, the driver leaped toward Walt, but 
Phil stepped in his way, laying one hand on the breast 
of his red shirt. 

“Out o’ my way till I brain that dub !” growled Reddy, 
huskily. 

“Stand where you are!” commanded Rush. 

Reddy tried to shake off Phil’s restraining grasp, but 
the white fingers twined themselves into the red flannel 
like so many prongs of steel, and Reddy was not a little 
surprised to find that he could neither shake off the hand 
nor back away from it. 

“Mr. Arkwright was entirely correct,” said Phil, coolly ; 
“you lied, Reddy, and you know it.” 

The driver spluttered, twisted and squirmed, but did not 
resort to blows. When he became fairly quiet, Phil con- 
tinued : 

“I’ve got another question I want to ask you: Why 
did you cut that strap?” 

“I didn’t cut it.” 

“What have you got against that boy, anyway?” asked 
Phil, disregarding the denial. 

“Nothin’, an’ you can’t stand there and make a fool o’ 
me. Let loose ! Break away, I say, or I’ll knock out one 
o’ your lamps!” 

“I want you to answer my question, why did you ” 

But Reddy was in no mood for answering questions. 
Thinking he saw an opportunity he reached forward with 
his big fist toward one of Phil’s “lamps.” When the fist 
reached the point where the “lamp” was, however, the 
“lamp” had dropped a foot below. For this reason, the 


102 Reddy Vows Vengeance. 

fist struck nothing but air, Reddy was hurled violently 
forward with the force of his blow and our hero tripped 
him neatly with an outstretched foot. 

Reddy fell sprawling. When he sprang up, fairly 
frothing with rage, he found that the young showman 
had picked up an iron-bound tent stake. 

“Is that a fair way to fight ?” gritted Reddy. 

“No,” answered Phil. “I don’t want a fight, and for 
that very reason Pve armed myself with this tent-pin. 
How much money is coming to Reddy, Walt?” 

Walt took a small book from his pocket and examined 
it for a moment. 

“Something like nineteen dollars,” replied Walt. “Nine- 
teen and a half is the figure, Phil.” 

“Throw him twenty dollars.” 

Walt wadded up a bill and tossed it to Reddy, who 
promptly set his foot on it and ground it into the earth. 

“That’s what I think of your money,” he fumed. “The 
twenty you owe me, Rushington, I’ll take out of your 
hide.” 

“I don’t think you will, but if you want to leave it that 
way, I shan’t object. I’d advise you to take the money, 
though.” 

“I’ll have somethin’ better’n money, you can bet on 
that.” 

“It’s probably needless for me to tell you, Reddy, that 
you’re discharged. I’ll give you half an hour to get your 
traps together and take yourself oflF the lot. If I find 
you here, after that time, look out for yourself.” 


Reddy Vows Vengeance. 103 

Phil pitched the stake to one side and walked off toward 
the crowds in front of the tent. 

“Where did we take Reddy on, Walt?” asked Phil of 
his old chum, who had followed. 

“Edwardsville. He means mischief of some kind, 
Rush. You ought not to have given him so long a time 
to make himself scarce.” 

“I don’t think I offered him any more grace than he’ll 
find necessary. I’m as positive as I can be that he did 
his best to injure that boy.” 

“It’s strange that he should want to do that.” 

“Very strange. In fact, it’s part and parcel of the mys- 
tery surrounding Francis Carter — which, by the way, is 
certainly not the boy’s name.” 

“I think Francis could tell us, if he would.” 

“I think so, too, despite the fact that he said he had 
never seen Reddy before. By the way, old man, was 
that cage repaired?” 

“It was just hauled back from the blacksmith shop. 
When do you want the animals put back in it?” 

“Not till to-night, just before we haul the cages to the 
depot. A good crowd, Walt !” 

They had reached a point where they could observe the 
throng about the ticket wagon and take notice of the jam 
in the chute at the entrance. It was a sight to bring 
joy to the young showman’s heart. 

“You distinguished yourself in that last town, Rush, 
and the news got here ahead of us. You’re the best 
drawing card we have in the show.” 


104 Reddy Vows Vengeance. 

Phil laughed in an embarrassed way. 

“It wasn’t much and, while I like to get the business all 
right, I hate to make a walking advertisement out of 
myself.” 

“Nevertheless, you can’t get behind the fact that you’ve 
got a way with you that takes. Remember how they 
cheered you in the parade?” 

“Yes.” 

“The people were glad to get a glimpse of you and 
they’ll be disappointed if they don’t feast their eyes on 
you during the grand entry. By the way, do you recall 
that it’s high time you were back in the dressing-room 
making ready for the opening act?” 

“That’s so,” answered Phil, looking at his watch. 
“Keep a weather-eye out for Reddy, Walt. If he’s 
around here in half an hour, summon an officer and have 
him arrested.” 

“Trust me for that, Rush. I’ll watch him as a cat 
watches a rat.” 

Phil, as usual, made it a point to take part in the 
“grand entry” when all his performers filed into the ring 
and performed various evolutions on horseback. He 
was a graceful horseman, and there is no doubt that his 
presence on these occasions, side by side with his beau- 
tiful star rider, Isabel, made one of the hits of the per- 
formance. 

Dora Warren had had a little specialty in the song line, 
when she first 'joined the show, but she now devoted her- 
self entirely to helping Phil and Walt in the manage- 


Reddy Vows Vengeance. 105 

ment, taking care of the correspondence, keeping ac- 
counts, etc. — a purely mechanical part of the work which 
she did well and so proved of great help to the young 
showman. 

Phil was a little surprised, therefore, when he mounted 
his horse and rode into the waiting line of mounted per- 
formers to find that Dora had taken the place usually 
occupied by Eona. The boy, Francis, was on hand, but 
was riding with the men. 

The band struck up the air that heralded the opening 
pageant, the curtain was jerked aside and Isabel led the 
way out with one of the others for a partner. Swiftly 
the double column trotted into the ring, amid great ap- 
plause. 

Hardly had Phil returned when Curly came hurrying 
in. 

“This is luck!” exclaimed the groom, breathlessly; “I 
feared you would still be in the ring.” 

“What’s the matter?” 

“Pm going to prove that I was perfectly innocent of 
cutting that strap, Mr. Rushington. I want you to come 
with me.” 

• “Where?” 

“Only a few yards distant. You will not need the 
horse. In fact, it will be better for us to go on foot. You 
do not object to eavesdropping, do you, sir?” 

“Well,” said Phil, giving the groom a sharp look, “that 
depends. Whose conversation are we to overhear?” 

“There are two of them, sir, and one is Reddy.” 


io6 


Reddy Vows Vengeance. 


“Reddy is still around here, is he?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Then I’ll go with you.” 

Leaving his horse, Phil accompanied the groom out of 
the dressing-tent. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


CAGED. 

Owing to a fall from a platform car which one of the 
wild animal cages had sustained a day or two previously, 
several bars had been wrenched from the grating, making 
the cage insecure. On reaching the present town, Phil 
had caused the animals to be removed from the broken 
cage and the wagon hauled to the nearest blacksmith shop 
for repairs. The repairs completed, the wagon was 
hauled back and now stood, with both its painted sides in 
place, edged up against the back of the menagerie tent. 
Toward this wagon Curly now led the young showman, 
first cautioning him to step lightly and preserve silence. 

Halting at the side of the van, our hero laid his ear 
against the boards and listened intently. A mumble of 
voices reached him, but he could not distinguish the 
spoken words. Of one thing he was certain, however, 
and that was that there were two speakers— a discovery 
which bore out the information given by Curly. 

Laying a hand on our hero’s arm, the groom pointed 
to the end of the wagon where a barrel had been placed. 
Catching the man’s idea, Phil climbed to the top of the 
barrel, the elevated position bringing his head close to 
the two screen-covered ventilators in the end of the van. 
He was thus enabled to hear distinctly all that was said. 

“You think this is perfectly safe, eh?” queried a husky 


io8 


Caged. 


voice which Phil recognized as belonging to the hobo to 
whom he had given a quarter a little while before. 

“Sure,” answered the voice of Reddy. “That idea of 
mine about taking off the side, getting in here and then 
lifting the side back again, was a bright one.” 

“But the cage door is closed, an’ it closed with a snap, 
too. It didn’t lock, did it ?” 

“Bosh ! Do ye think it’s a spook cage an’ can lock 
itself?” 

“It alius gives me the creeps, Reddy, ter get behind a 
lay-out of bars. It don’t bring back no pleasant mem- 
ories, you can bet on that.” 

“You’ve been in the jug so much, Bumpers, that you 
ought to feel at home behind a grating.” 

“Quit yer joshin’ — it’s too delicate a matter.” 

“Well, set yer mind at rest about bein’ locked in here. 
It ’u’d take a padlock an’ a pair o’ hands to do that, an’ 
neither one is forthcomin’.” 

Phil bent down and motioned to Curly. The latter came 
quickly up to the barrel and our hero whispered in his 
ear : 

“Go hunt up Mr. Arkwright and get the padlock that 
belongs to this cage.” 

An idea of what the young showman intended to do 
flashed through the groom’s mind and he grinned slyly as 
he' nodded and made off. Straightening up once more, 
Phil again gave his attention to Reddy and Bumpers. 

“What I want to know is,” Reddy was saying, “where’s 
that paper?” 


109 


Caged. 

“That paper’s safe, an’ don’t you fergit it.” 

“It’s safe enough, probably, but I want to know where 
it is. Lovejoy and I have got as much interest in that 
as you have.” 

“Look here ! Ain’t you got no confidence in your pal ?” 

“To be honest with ye, Bumpers, I must say I haven’t 
got as much as I’d like ter have.” 

“Some ’un said that there’s honor even among — er — 
gentlemen like us, but ” 

“G’wan ! That’s guff. Where’s that dockyment ?” 

“I’ve got it safe, and I’m goiV ter sell it to the highest 
bidder.” 

“There’ll be only one bidder.” 

“There are three people as ’ud like ter have it.” 

“Keno — but only with the money ter buy it. Ards- 
ley, Frances and Levering. Levering hasn’t a dollar an’ 
is now in jail an’ likely ter lose what little practice he had 
an’ take a trip over the road inter the bargain ; Frances 
has considerable money in prospect, but isn’t of age, and 
can only get what Ardsley advances, so we’ll have ter 
look to the major himself.” 

“Major Ardsley’ll buy it — mark my words.” 

“He’ll get it, Bumpers, by hook or crook. If he don’t 
buy it he’ll have you waylaid an’ the paper taken from 
you.” 

“Nixey ! I’m too cunnin’. I haven’t got the paper 
about me.” 

“What?” 

“I say I haven’t got the paper about me. I was afeard 


no 


Caged. 

of you an’ Lovejoy — a physical wreck like me wouldn’t 
stand much show ag’inst a prize fighter and a strong man. 
So I hid the dockyment in one of the chariots b’longin’ to 
this show.” 

“Confound you, Bumpers ! I’ve a notion ter choke ye 
for that.” 

“Don’t do it ! Hurt me any an’ you’ll lose a fortune. I 
won’t come as easy as Frances, although ye tried twicet 
in that quarter an’ couldn’t make it.” 

“Look here, blast ye! What you tryin’ to git at?” 

“You know well enough. The major ’u’d like ter git 
rid of both Frances an’ Levering. You an’ Lovejoy are 
engineerin’ one job an’ ye might let me look arter t’other 
one.” 

“You close your trap about that !” growled Reddy. 
“What good did it do ye ter hide that docyment ’round 
one of the show wagons?” 

“It’ll do me a heap more good than ter have it ’round 
my clothes where you an’ Lovejoy can git at it. Oh, I 
ain’t so much, Reddy, but I know a thing or two !” 

“Look here,” hissed Reddy, “you tell me where that 
paper is or I’ll throttle you !” 

“Keep yer hands off o’ me, or I’ll yell. You know 
what that means. The boss fired you an’ give you half 
an’ hour ter leave the grounds. Here it is over an hour 
an’ ye ain’t left yet. Rushington won’t do a thing to 
you if he finds you here, I don’t think. Keep away, I say. 


The words were lost in a smothered yell, followed by a 


Caged. 


hi 


heavy fall that caused the wagon to shake. At that in- 
stant Curly returned with the padlock, Walt accompany- 
ing him. 

“What’s the matter inside there?” whispered Walt as 
Phil sprang down from the barrel. 

“When thieves fall out,” returned Rush, “there’s a 
chance for honest men. Walt, you and Curly post your- 
selves at each end of the wagon and pull off the side 
when I give the word.” 

Walt and Curly took up the positions assigned to them, 
Phil standing in the middle, padlock in hand. 

“Now !” said Phil. 

In an instant the gaudily-painted side of the cage was 
slipped off and dropped down, and Phil threw the hasp 
in the grated door of the cage over the staple and pushed 
the tongue of the padlock through and snapped it shut. 

It was then seen that Reddy had Bumpers down in the 
bottom of the wagon and was astride of him with both 
hands about his throat. The tramp’s eyes were bulging 
from his head and his face was growing purple. The 
sudden coup on the part of the young showman, however, 
caused Reddy to leap up and throw himself at the door. 
The stout bars trembled beneath the impact of his huge 
bulk, but remained firm as adamant. Bumpers sat up, 
gasping and trying to realize what had happened. 

“Unlock that door !” fumed Reddy, shaking it with his 
hands. 

“No,” answered Phil. “I told you to look out for your- 
self if I found you around here after the half hour of 


1 1 2 Caged. 

grace which I gave you for collecting your traps and 
pulling out.” 

“Blast you, Rushington,” grated Reddy, reaching 
through the bars and shaking a big, red fist at Phil. “You 
let me out of here or I’ll kill you !” 

Our hero laughed. 

“I wouldn’t talk that way if I were you,” said he. “It 
doesn’t sound well.” 

“You’ve got no right to lock me up like this, an’ you 
know it !” went on Reddy, fairly beside himself with im- 
potent rage. “I’ll have the law on you ! You’ll pay dear 
for this !” 

“The law is about the last thing you want to run up 
against, Reddy. It will be very easy to haul you to the 
jail and dump you out of this wagon into a cell.” 

“I’d like to see you try it on !” blustered the ruffian. 

“Make too much noise, or use any further violence 
against that tramp, and you’ll see me try it on quick 
enough.” Phil turned away. “Watch them for a little 
while, Curly.” 

“Is it all right, sir?” asked the groom. 

“Is what all right?” 

“Are you satisfied of my innocence regarding that cut 
strap?” 

“Yes. Only do as well in the future, Curly, as you’ve 
done just now, and you may be sure that I will have no 
fault to find.” 

Walt walked around the tent in the direction of the 
dressing-rooms with Phil, the latter hating when they 
had gotten out of sight and sound of the cage. 


Caged. 1 13 

“We have no man on the roll named Love joy, have we, 
Walt?” asked Rush. 

“No.” 

“Well, I'm pretty sure there’s a strong man with us 
who is hand and glove with the rascals in that cage.” 

“If we’ve got a modern Hercules in this outfit, Rush, 
it’s a new one on me.” 

“On me, too. Take a quiet hunt around and see if you 
can find such a fellow, will you?” 

“Yes, I’ll go at it at once.” 

“As soon as you can, relieve Curly at the cage. I want 
some one on guard there, and the groom will be needed 
at the stable. If you find it impossible to go in a short 
time, find some trusty man to go in your place.” 

“All right” 

They started off in different directions, but Phil halted 
to inquire : 

“How is everything going, Walt? I haven’t been able 
to give much time to the performance this afternoon.” 

“Things seem to be running smoothly, but you made 
a mistake by not riding out a second time, Rush.” 

“I think not, old man,” answered Phil, smiling a little. 

“By the way,” went on Walt, coming a little closer, 
“has all this anything to do with that unknown rider ?” 

“Very much, I think,” answered Phil. “Just how much 
I intend to find out before very long. How’s the boy 
doing ?” 

“Very well, Gftmt says. He went on for his act just as 
I started with Curly to go to the place where you were. 


1 14 Caged. 

Have you noticed that there has been a good deal of ap- 
plause since then?” 

“Yes. Well, find Lovejoy, if you can, and report to 
me. Remember, also, what I told you about relieving 
Curly.” 

Walt nodded, and made his way hurriedly around 
toward the ticket wagon. Our hero, passing the horse 
tent annex to the main tent, stepped inside. The place 
seemed deserted, but, as he stood there, looking about 
him, a tumultuous burst of applause came from the other 
tent, the curtain at the ring entrance was jerked aside, and 
the unknown rider trotted through, the curtain closing 
after him. 

The boy’s face was flushed. His ring costume was a 
handsome one, and he looked very well in it — in fact, too 
well. There was a certain effeminacy about his appear- 
ance which struck Phil, and struck him “all in a heap,” 
so to speak. This might not have been commented upon 
by the casual observer, but Phil connected it with certain 
remarks made by the two men in the cage, and a startling 
idea flashed through his mind. 

At sight of him, Francis smiled and waved his whip. 
At the same moment, however, he reeled, tried to recover 
his poise, and pitched over sideways. Phil was at his 
side in a moment, bending down and lifting him. 

“What is the matter, Frances — Frances Ardsley?” 
queried Rush, hazarding a chance shot, and looking full 
into the rider’s face as he did so. 

The rider paled, and one arm shivered in Rush’s hand ; 
then she gasped, her eyes looking appealingly into his : 


Caged. 


“5 


“Don’t — don’t betray me, Phil Rushington !” 

Looking out from behind one of the canvas stalls was 
a man in tights. He clinched his fist, and a malignant 
expression overspread his face as he looked ; then, quickly 
turning, he sped silently back to the dressing-tent. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


HOW FRANCIS BECAME FRANCES. 

“I will keep your secret,” said Rush, “but it would have 
been better had you told me all in the first place.” 

“I feared to do so,” she answered, suffering herself to 
be lifted by Phil and supported by his arm. “I thought 
that he might find out I was here if I once allowed my 
secret to pass my lips.” 

She looked apprehensively around while speaking. 

“He?” returned Phil. “Whom do you mean, Miss 
Ardsley ?” 

“Love joy.” 

“Do you know the fellow?” inquired the young circus 
owner, a trifle startled at the way certain incidents were 
dovetailing together. 

“I never saw him,” she answered. 

“But you are looking for him?” 

“Yes, in order to — to — oh, Mr. Rushington! Will you 
be my friend? Will you help me? If I tell you all, will 
you assist me to find the letter I am looking for ?” 

“You are looking for a letter, then?” 

“Yes, and my life’s happiness, and the happiness of 
another, as well, depends upon my finding it. Please say 
you will help me !” 

She caught one of Phil’s hands in both her own, and 
clung to it convulsively. 

“You must tell me everything, first,” said he, gently, 


How Francis Became Frances. 117 

“and then I will let you know whether or not I can help 
you in your search. All the men are in the ring now, and 
this would be a good time for you to return to the dress- 
ing-room and get into your other clothes. After you do 
that, come outside. I will be waiting for you.” 

She gave one long, appealing look into his face, and 
then hurried away. Phil wondered why he had not 
divined her sex before, since it seemed so plain to him 
now. Just as Frances disappeared, Curly came in. 

“How did you leave the latest additions to our menag- 
erie, Curly?” asked Phil. 

“Quiet as kittens, Mr. Rushington,” returned the groom. 
“The boss canvasman came and took my place.” 

As Curly led the horse ridden by Frances into a stall, 
Phil went out and waited for the girl to join him. She 
soon came, again clad in her boy’s clothes, and flushing 
crimson as she met the young showman’s gaze. 

“Come this way,” said Phil. 

He led her to the place where the band chariot had been 
left after the parade. This was as retired a spot as could 
be found, and they seated themselves in the shade on a 
property trunk belonging to the musicians. 

“Will you tell me how you knew that my name was 
Frances Ardsley?” asked the girl, with a shy look at our 
hero. 

“It was partly a guess, on my part. I knew a little and 
made a jump at the rest. Just now it is not essential for 
me to explain. Will you please tell me who Mr. Levering 
is?” 

The girl drew a quick breath. 


n8 How Francis Became Frances. 


“And you know about him, too!” she exclaimed. 

“Not so much as I would like to know, Miss Ardsley.” 

“He is my — my lover, Mr. Rushington.” 

“Ah!” murmured Phil. “And Mr. Ardsley — Major 
Ardsley. Who is he?” 

“He is my uncle and guardian, although I blush to 
bear his name. He is a villain, Mr. Rushington. When 
my father died, he left a fortune to me, and gave botli 
myself and my legacy into the care of his brother. Major 
Ardsley was false to his trust, and is seeking to wreck my 
life — and my lover’s as well.” 

“Will you tell me how, Miss Ardsley? That is, if it is 
necessary for me to know in order to understand about 
that letter you are looking for.” 

“I will tell you, because I want your help, and because 
you saved my life and have earned the right to know. 
According to my father’s will, my money was to be turned 
over to me when I became of age, or upon my marriage if 
I married before then. Mr. Levering and I were en- 
gaged, but upon the very day set for our wedding he 
was arrested and taken to jail.” 

It was very trying for Frances to lay bare her heart, 
and Phil saw how great the struggle was, and dropped 
one of his hands encouragingly upon hers. 

“On what charge was Mr. Levering arrested?” he 
asked. 

“Robbery ! Think of it, Mr. Rushington ! There never 
was a greater outrage perpetrated. My uncle was 
knocked down and robbed a few miles out of Edwards- 
ville, and he claimed that it was Mr. Levering who com- 


How Francis Became Frances. 119 

mitted the deed. But it was false. The whole thing was 
planned by a m-an named Love joy, whom my uncle knew, 
and who is one of your employees. I know that much 
from certain remarks made by my uncle, and which I 
chanced to overhear.” 

Her bosom heaved fitfully, and she choked with in- 
dignation. 

“Be calm,” said our hero, “and let us hurry on to that 
letter which you are looking for.” 

“It seems so terrible, Mr. Rushington, that such an 
outrage could be perpetrated and all but successfully car- 
ried through in a country like this. Mr. Levering is a 
young doctor, and is struggling to get a foothold in his 
profession. He has not had much success, as yet, and he 
is not very well off, but I will have enough for both of 
us if I can only get my rights. A few days ago, late in 
the evening, Mr. Levering had a note delivered to him by 
an unknown messenger. The note was a written request 
for him to come out into the country and see a man who 
was dangerously ill. He never ignores a call of that kind, 
and he went at once. When he got to his destination, he 
was set upon and roughly handled by three masked ruf- 
fians. He was so badly hurt that he passed the rest of 
the night in a farmhouse, and did not get back to town 
until the next morning. On reaching his lodgings, he 
found an officer awaiting him. The officer told him that 
Mr. Ardsley had been assaulted and robbed near the place 
in the country where Mr. Levering had gone, and that he 
had been recognized as the thief. Mr. Levering ex- 
plained, but to no avail. Then he was searched, and two 


120 


How Francis Became Frances. 


discoveries were made — first, that the note written to 
him and asking him to- come to the country had been taken 
from his pocket, and, second, that my uncle’s purse had 
been slipped into his coat. It was all a plot, Mr. Rushing- 
ton — all a vile, horrible plot!” 

“It certainly looked bad for your lover.” 

“It could not have looked worse. I consulted a lawyer, 
who told me that if we could find the letter that called 
Mr. Levering out into the country it would be a long 
step toward establishing his innocence.” 

“That letter has probably been destroyed, don’t you 
think ?” queried Phil, who was mentally trying to convince 
himself that this note was the one Bumpers had hidden. 
But why was that note valuable to Ardsley, as both 
Bumpers and Reddy seemed to agree? This was what 
Rush could not understand, and he was led to believe 
that there might be another document in the case. 

“Oh, I hope not!” exclaimed Frances. “I thought 
Lovejoy might have it, and I dressed myself as you see 
and came on with the intention of joining your show, if I 
could, and thus placing myself in a position to watch 
Lovejoy, discover whether he had the letter, and, if pos- 
sible, buy it. All of my life I have been fond of horses. 
When I attended boarding school, in New York, I spent 
all my leisure time at a riding academy ; and when I was 
out West with my father, before he died, I had a horse 
of my own, and practiced various kinds of trick riding. 
I thought, if you once saw my ability, you would take 
me with you.” 

“You are certainly very clever on horseback, Miss Ards- 


How Francis Became Frances. 12 1 

ley,” said Phil, “but it was hardly right for you to dis- 
guise yourself and try to join a circus. It was lucky I 
found you out when I did. I pride myself on the morale 
of my employees, especially the performers, but it is im- 
possible to prevent an occasional hard character from 
drifting in — as I have found both yesterday and to-day.” 

“I do not think I did wrong,” answered Frances, firmly. 
“All I have done Mr. Levering would do twice over for 
me.” 

“Could you not have hired some detective to do the 
work for you?” 

“Detectives are not plenty in Edwardsville,” Mr. Rush- 
ington,” she said, with a faint smile. “Besides, if I could 
have secured such a person, I should have been afraid to 
trust him.” 

“Your uncle, evidently, does not wish you to marry 
Mr. Levering.” 

“He has tried everything to prevent it, threats, per- 
suasion, and, lastly, this terrible plot. He does not want 
to give me my money. I am almost certain that it will 
ruin him to do so.” 

“If anything happened to you, to whom would the 
money go?” 

“To Uncle Amos — Amos Ardsley is my uncle’s name.” 

The mystery was rapidly clearing, and Phil was able 
to see through many things that before had been dark to 
him. 

“You are in considerable danger, Miss Ardsley,” said 
he. “I am going to be frank with you, because I think 
it is best that you should know all. Your uncle is being 


122 


How Francis Became Frances. 


assisted in his nefarious work by three men — Lovejoy, 
Reddy and a tramp called Bumpers. Lovejoy, as I under- 
stand, is with the show, and I have already taken steps to 
have him hunted out. Reddy was employed by me as a 
teamster, but I have discharged him, because I thought he 
attempted to run you down with that mule team, and be- 
cause I am positive he cut the strap which gave you that 
fall in the ring ” 

“Can it be possible!’’ she exclaimed, aghast. “Is my 
uncle so inhuman as to make attempts on my life ?” 

“I would not say that,” went on Phil, hastily. “He may 
only have wanted to injure you, thus preventing you from 
searching for that letter and causing you to postpone 
your marriage.” 

“No, no!” said Frances, bitterly. “My marriage threat- 
ens his ruin ; if he finds it impossible to prevent that, with 
all his trickery, why should he hesitate about putting me 
out of the way? A stroke of that kind would make my 
fortune secure to him. And see the cunning of it. If I 
was swept out of his way by a seeming accident, no one 
could be called to account, and I would merely pose as 
a victim of my own headstrong folly. Oh, what a con- 
scienceless wretch he is ! How basely disloyal he has 
been to the trust my father reposed in him !” 

“As for Bumpers,” went on Phil, “he does not belong 
with the show, although he applied for a place this morn- 
ing. I have cause to think that the letter you seek was 
in the possession of Bumpers, and that he has hidden it 
somewhere near this place ” 

“You know this?” she interrupted, excitedly. 


How Francis Became Frances. 123 

“I am almost certain of it.” 

“Then we must arrest Bumpers and force him to reveal 
the hiding place of the letter.” 

“I do not think he could be forced to do that.” 

“Then I will buy the letter from him. I have not much 
money, but he is a tramp, you say, and what little means 
I have may be sufficient.” 

“No, Miss Ardsley, I do not think you have enough 
money. Bumpers knows the letter is very valuable and 
would demand a large sum. I have another way to deal 
with the difficulty.” 

Phil arose to his feet. 

“You are going to help me, Mr. Rushington?” she 
asked, eagerly. 

“Yes,” replied our hero. “I am going to do a little 
searching and go at it in a peculiar way.” 

“You will first have to find the tramp.” 

“I know exactly where to go to put my hands on him. 
Before I leave, however, I want to tell you that your 
engagement with this show is at an end. If you had told 
me, at first, all that you have told me now, I would never 
have permitted you to enter the ring. More than that, I 
would have assisted you in your search just as willingly. 
Your position is delicate, as well as dangerous, Miss 
Ardsley. I could not place you under the care of my 
friend, Miss Warren, nor of any of the other young ladies, 
without betraying your secret. Therefore, I ask you to 
remain here while I am gone. Be wary and cautious, and 
if anything happens to alarm you, hurry to the tent and 
ask for me. I will not be long away, and, for certain 


124 


How Francis Became Frances. 


reasons, I do not think it would be well to take you with 
me.” 

“I will look after myself, Mr. Rushington, never fear,” 
she answered, “and I thank you from my heart for all 
you have done and intend doing for me.” 

She reached out her hand and he caught it and pressed 
it. She was a handsome girl, and he thought how lucky 
Levering was to have so courageous and faithful a sweet- 
heart. 

Dropping her hand, he hurried off toward the cage 
where Reddy and Bumpers had been left. 


CHAPTER XV. 


AN EXPERIMENT. 

Frances was known to Reddy and the tramp, although 
they were not known to her. For this reason Phil did not 
take the girl with him. He had in mind an experiment 
which he wished to make, and if the prisoners saw her 
they might suspect he had some ulterior motive. As for 
Reddy, our hero did not care so much ; but he wanted the 
tramp left in complete darkness as to his present relations 
with Miss Ardsley. 

The burly boss canvasman had rolled the barrel in 
front of the cage and was sitting on it, kicking his heels 
and alternately smoking and taking his pipe out of his 
mouth to guy the prisoners. At sight of Phil a broad 
grin stole over his face. 

“I’ve just been tryin’ to figger out, sir, what kind of 
animals these are,” said he. 

“Well,” answered Phil, looking at Bumpers, who was 
holding on to the bars of the door, “that fellow wanted 
to hire out to me at noon for either a wild man or a What- 
is-it.” 

“I think he must be the What-is-it, then, ’cause the other 
is certainly a wild man. Lor’, how he’s been carryin’ on! 
He needs to be tamed, sir, an’ I wouldn’t like anythin’ 
better than to tackle the job.” 

“If I was out o’ here,” growled Reddy, “I’d make a 
show of you in about six seconds.” 


126 


An Experiment. 


Reddy was over in one of the farthest corners, glaring 
out of the shadow and talking to himself. 

“I don’t know what ye’re keepin’ me in here for, Mr. 
Rushington,” sniffed the tramp. “I ain’t done a thing. 
I was jest in bad company, that’s all.” 

“Bad comp’ny!” sneered Red^y. “You’re a bird, you 
are! You’ll be posin’ for a skypilot next. You’ve done 
more time in days than I have in minutes.” 

“He’s talkin’ wild, sir,” went on the tramp. “Don’t 
pay no attention to him. Somethin’ must have gone to 
his head.” 

Phil came close to the door, the key of the padlock 
in the palm of his hand. Edging around so that the 
tramp’s body was between him and Reddy, Phil gave 
Bumpers a wink and slipped the key into the padlock. 

“So you think you ought to be let out, do you?” queried 
Phil. 

“He hadn’t ought to be let out any quicker’n me,” 
spoke up Reddy from his corner. “For that matter, you 
ain’t got any business keepin’ either of us in here, as 
you’ll find out before Pm done with you.” 

With a series of lightning-like moves, the young show- 
man turned the key, opened the cage door, jerked Bump- 
ers out and then slammed the door shut and locked it 
again just as Reddy sprang to follow his companion 
through the opening. 

“Much obliged,” said Bumpers. “That was close, eh ?” 

“What d’ye mean by lettin’ him out an’ keepin’ me in ?” 
demanded Reddy, furiously. 


An Experiment 127 

Phil made no answer, but turned and walked away, 
leading Bumpers by the arm. 

“You’ve been badly treated, have you, Bumpers?” 
asked Phil, halting after they had passed around the cir- 
cular wall of the tent and placed themselves out of sight 
of the cage. 

“Well, I should smile ! This is the worst ever ! I gets 
invited into a wagon to take a snack out of a bottle, and 
bang! First thing I knows I’m inside a cage, with no 
means at hand for gettin’ out. That’s kinder tough treat- 
ment, boss, ain’t it, now?” 

“Rather rough, that’s a fact, yet hardly as rough as 
you were being treated when the cage door was locked 
on you. Strange that a man should invite you into an 
iron cage to take a drink with him, say nothing about his 
taking a sudden notion to strangle you.” 

“Gee ! Say, boss, he jest got me in there to strangle 
me ! His invitation for me to wet my whistle was only a 
bait. I was a fool for risin’ to the fly, but I did, an’ you 
saw what I got for it. Next time a duffer offers me a 
drink of whiskey I’ll call the police. You played it rather 
low down on me, boss.” 

“That’s a fact — taking your story for it.” 

“Mebby you’d like to square yourself with me by givin’ 
me a job?” 

“Are you a good hypnotic subject, Bumpers?” 

“You mean was I ever hypnotized?” 

“That’s what I mean.” 

“Nope — never had no one try. I’m a physical wreck, 


128 An Experiment. 

though, an’ a horrible example, so I ought to come easy. 
Want to try?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then open the throttle an’ give her the sand. Fm 
ready. When ye git me fixed, jest gi’ me the idee that 
I’m a millionaire, an’ don’t never wake me up. Are you 
ready ?” 

“All ready.” 

“Then — then — wait a minute ! What am I goin’ to 
get out o’ this — a job?” 

“I won’t promise it. I want to see what I can do with 
you.” 

“Make it another quarter anyway, will ye ?” 

“I’ll do better than that, Bumpers. I’ll make it a 
dollar.” 

“That takes me right off my feet, boss. Go ahead. Be 
quick about it, ’cause I’m afraid ye’ll change yer mind.” 

“Look at me, Bumpers !” 

The tramp shifted his bleared eyes to a line with Phil’s. 
Phil gave him a steady look and began making passes in 
the air. The young showman was no novice in the art 
of mesmerism. Once he had mesmerized Walt and his 
cousin Mary, and had all kinds of fun. Now, however, he 
was seeking to turn his powers to a more profitable use, 
and he was glad to find that Bumpers was even a better 
subject than Walt had ever proved. 

Finding himself “going,” the tramp made a feeble ef- 
fort to break from the thrall that was swiftly chaining 
him, body and mind, to the young showman’s will. 


129 


An Experiment. 

“Look at me!” commanded Phil. “Fix your eyes on 
mine, Bumpers ! You can’t get away from me, you know 
you can’t.” 

And neither could he. A few more passes and Bumpers 
was completely hypnotized. 

“Are you up to your old tricks, Phil ?” asked Dora, sud- 
denly appearing on the scene and eying Phil in puzzled 
wonder. 

“I am trying an experiment, Dora,” answered our hero, 
never taking his eyes from his subject. 

“What kind of an experiment?” 

“I can’t explain now. That boy whom I hired to take 
Eona’s place this afternoon is over by the band chariot. 
Please go and get him, and then quietly follow wherever 
this tramp and I may go.” 

Dora departed, and the young showman continued his 
passes for a little while to make sure that the brief ab- 
straction while he talked with Dora had not lessened 
his hold on Bumpers. 

Phil did not delay his experiment any longer than nec- 
essary, for he knew that the afternoon performance would 
soon be over, and he wanted to be out of the way when 
the crowd began to leave the tents. 

“Bumpers,” said Phil, speaking in a low, intense voice, 
“you had a letter that was written to Mr. Levering, had 
you not ?” 

“Yes,” answered the tramp without the slightest hes- 
itation. 

“You hid it?” 


*30 


An Experiment. 


“Yes.” 

“Well, I want you to go to the place where you hid 
that letter and get it for me. Do you understand ?” 

“Yes.” 

“There’s a better show on the outside of the tent than 
on the inside,” Phil heard Dora say behind him. “If the 
people only knew what was going on, they’d all be here.” 

Phil had no time to give to that phase of the question, 
for every faculty was bent on the work before him. 

With his bleared eyes fixed and glaring straight in front 
of him, Bumpers started slowly off. Phil kept at his 
side, and Dora and Frances -wonderingly followed. 
Straight back to the band chariot the tramp led them, 
and at last came to an abrupt halt at one of the forward 
wheels, turning and turning as though bewildered. 

“The letter,” hissed Phil in Bumpers’ ear, “the letter 
that was sent to Mr. Levering! You hid it about this 
wagon. Get it for me.” 

At the four corners of the chariot were gilded images, 
carved out of wood and representing Aphrodite. Up on 
the front wheel the tramp climbed, laid hold of Aphro- 
dite’s head and began twisting it. After a few turns, he 
lifted the head off, and Phil had learned something he 
never knew before, viz. : that the heads of the figures on 
his band chariot were separable from the bodies and made 
fast by a screw and socket. 

The head removed, Bumpers held it away from him and 
shook it until a folded paper dropped out at Phil’s feet. 
While the tramp turned the head back into its proper 


An Experiment. 131 

place, Phil opened the scrap of paper and read the writing 
it contained. 

A look of amazement swept over his face, quickly fol- 
lowed by an expression of chagrin and disappointment. 

“Isn’t it the right paper?” asked Frances in a tone of 
alarm that caused Dora to give her a curious look. 

“Read it for yourself,” said Phil, handing the scrap to 
her. 

This is what she read : 

“You come easy, Bumpers. I saw you put the letter 
in here, and five minutes after you put it in I took it out. 
Now, chase yourself ! We’ve got leery of you and con- 
sider that you’re out of the deal. Lovejoy.” 

Frances was so disappointed that she began to cry. 

“Never mind, little girl,” said Phil, a little rattled at 
the failure of his experiment. “We aren’t to the end 
of our tether yet. We’ll find Love joy and get the letter 
from him.” 

“Little girl !” exclaimed Dora, drawing away and look- 
ing from Phil to Frances. “Is this supposed boy a young 
woman ?” 

“Yes,” replied Phil. “I revealed the fact unwittingly, 
and ” 

“Why is she dressed in boy’s clothes, and why have 
you been so much together this afternoon?” 

Phil told Dora, as quickly as possible, just how the 
land lay, and she became at once Miss Ardsley’s ardent 
champion. 


132 


An Experiment. 


“You have Bumpers in a hypnotic condition, Phil,” she 
suggested, “and why not ask him to tell what he knows 
about this plot of Major Ardsley’s against Mr. Lev- 
ering ?” 

“I doubt whether he will tell us much,” answered Phil ; 
“but there is no harm in trying.” 

Stepping closer to Bumpers, who had climbed down 
from the wheel, he made a few more passes, and then 
asked : 

“Do you know Mr. Levering, Bumpers?” 

The tramp nodded. 

“And Major Ardsley?” 

Another nod. 

“Who planned the scheme to convict Levering of 
theft?” 

“Love joy,” came the instantaneous answer. 

“Who set upon Levering when he was lured into the 
country ?” 

“All three of us.” 

“Did you take the note out of his pocket?” 

The answer was a nod. 

“Was it you who put Major Ardsley’s purse into Lev- 
ering’s coat?” 

Bumpers shook his head. 

“Who did that?” 

“Lovejoy.” 

Bumpers began to grow restless, and Phil made more 
passes, but could not quiet him. 

“Who hired you to do that work?” proceeded Phil. 


An Experiment. 


133 


“I forget.” 

“Was it Major Ardsley?” 

“I can’t remember.” 

“This is all we can get out of him,” remarked Phil to 
Dora and Frances. 

“We’ve learned enough to corroborate all that I felt 
to be true,” said Frances. “Now, if we can only find 
Love joy and get that paper. That in itself would be al- 
most enough to clear Mr. Levering. The lawyer 
said ” 

“Sh-h-h !” interrupted Dora, laying a hand on her com- 
panion’s arm. “Here comes Mr. Wister. He’s in a 
hurry, Phil, and hasn’t taken the time to remove his 
make up.” 

Phil allowed his eyes to follow the direction which 
Dora indicated by a nod, and saw Burt Wister, his ver- 
satile tramp impersonator, hastening toward them. 

“What’s the matter, Wister ?” asked our hero. 

“Mr. Arkwright has just been found under a pile of 
blankets in the stable tent, Mr. Rushington,” returned 
Wister. 

“Is he hurt?” asked Phil, with a start. 

“Not much. He was tied hand and foot and nearly 
smothered, that’s all. His first words were a request 
that some one should go for you.” 

“I’ll be there at once.” Phil turned to Bumpers. “Sit 
down here, Bumpers,” he commanded, “and wait until I 
come back.” 

The tramp immediately seated himself. 


134 An Experiment. 

“We’ll stay with him to see that he doesn’t get away,” 
said Dora. 

“He won’t give you any trouble,” answered Phil, “but 
it may be just as well if you remain with him.” 

Without waiting another moment, Phil made off to- 
ward the stable tent, accompanied by Wister. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


A TRAIL OF MIDDLINGS. 

On reaching the stable Phil found Walt shaking him- 
self tO' get the cramp out of his limbs. He was sur- 
rounded by a little group of performers and others, Ma- 
mie and Isabel being among the number. At Phil’s ap- 
proach Walt looked around and laughed. 

“Well, old man,” said he, “here’s a go and no mis- 
take ! Tied hand and foot, and my head muffled in a 
blanket ! I could neither move nor make myself heard in 
any other way.” 

“You found Love joy, then?” asked Phil, glad to see 
that Walt had come out of the affair so well. 

“I should say so ! Found him all in a bunch, so to 
speak. When I left you, I got the pay roll and looked it 
over, but couldn’t get any inkling as to Love joy’s identity 
from that. Then I evolved a plan — a real crafty plan, 
Rush — and started off to work it. The male performers 
were getting ready for their spring-board work and were 
all lined up in the dressing-room ready to start into the 
ring. 

“Placing myself a little to one side, where I could see 
the whole line, I shouted ‘Lovejoy !’ suddenly and loudly. 
One of the men started, half whirled around, and then 
turned it off by fixing his trunks. That man was the one 
we know as Louis d’Or.” 

“That was a clever idea,” said Phil. “You caught 


136 A Trail of Middlings. 

d’Or off his guard and made him acknowledge his proper 
name.” 

“He’ll do!” declared Mamie. “Walt, av ye kape on as 
well as that, it’s as proud av yersilf we’ll be as we are 
av Rushy.” 

“Thanks, Mamie. If you’d like to hug me for that, 
why ” 

“Get out with yer blarney, an’ go ahead with yer yarn ! 
Can’t yez see how Rushy is waitin’ to hear the end av it ?” 

“Yes,” put in Phil ; “I’m anxious to learn how you got 
tied up and buried under that pile of horse blankets.” 

“Shortly after I spotted the fellow,” continued Walt, 
“all the acrobats left for the ring. Thinking that all was 
fair in love and war, I stepped to d’Or’s prop trunk and 
tried it. It wasn’t locked, and I threw back the lid. The 
contents were in great disorder, and directly on top was 
a photograph of d’Or balancing a couple of cannon balls 
in his hands. The photograph was inscribed ‘Art Love- 
joy, the Modern Samson.’ Then I was sure we had our 
man. 

“While I stood there looking at the picture Love joy 
suddenly caught me from behind, placed a hand over my 
mouth, threw me down, tied me with a couple of halters 
and muffled my head in a saddle blanket. It was all done 
before I could fairly comprehend what was going on. 
There’s no doubt at all about Love joy being a strong 
man. I was like a child in his grasp. After he had fixed 
me up to suit himself, he buried me under the blankets, 
and Curly found me there a little while after.” 

“Love joy was sharp enough to know that you had 


i37 


A Trail of Middlings. 

found him out, so he sneaked back from the ring and 
took time by the forelock by getting you out of the way. 
What became of him? Have you any idea?” 

“Not the slightest. He probably inferred that it wasn’t 
healthy for him to remain around here, so he made him- 
self scarce. He had to leave his trunk, though. But he 
had the forethought to lock it before taking to flight.” 

“That was a good deal like locking the stable after the 
horse has been stolen,” put in Wister. “He should have 
fastened the trunk before you got a look at his picture — 
that is, if he wanted to do a real nice thing for himself.” 

“We must find that fellow !” declared the young circus 
owner. “I’d give a good deal to know which way he 
went. Are any of the horses missing, Curly?” 

“No, sir.” 

“He might have gone into town and taken the train,” 
suggested Wister. 

“There’s been no train either way this afternoon.” 

“Well,” said Walt, “he may either be in the town now 
or have hoofed it straight into the country.” 

“He didn’t hoof it,” observed Cartwright, the man who 
had been “on” the door. “I think I can give you the 
information you are after, Mr. Rushington. I was 
around in front a while ago and saw d’Or sneak out to- 
ward the road. He had on his everyday clothes. His 
skulking manner, coupled with the fact that I knew he 
should be at work in the ring at that moment, aroused 
my suspicions, so I covertly followed him. When he 
reached the road, d’Or halted behind a thicket of brush 
until a farmer drove along. The farmer had a ‘demo- 


A Trail of Middlings. 


138 

crat’ wagon, and it was plain that he had just been to 
mill. In front of the tent his team took fright at some- 
thing and jumped sideways, almost overturning the 
wagon and throwing out one of half a dozen filled sacks 
which he had in behind. He jumped out and lifted the 
sack in, and then drove on. When he reached d’Or, the 
latter stepped quickly out, passed a few words with him, 
then climbed into the wagon and they jogged along. I 
knew something was up, and came back here to report. I 
got here just as Curly found Mr. Arkwright.” 

“Now we’re getting down to bed rock,” said Phil. 
“What kind of a team was it, Cartwright?” 

“A white horse and a brown mule.” 

“They went west?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, I’ll have to follow and inquire along the road 
for a white horse and a brown mule. Saddle my riding 
horse, Curly. It’ll be rather a hard trail, but d’Or hasn’t 
got much the start.” 

“The trail won’t be so hard to follow, Mr. Rushing- 
ton,” said Cartwright. “The sack that was thrown out 
of the farmer’s wagon was an old one, with two or three 
corncobs thrust into holes to stop them up and keep in 
the contents. In the fall one of the cobs came out — a 
little thing which escaped the farmer’s notice.” 

“And the sack’s contents sifted through the hole and 
left a trail in the road,” smiled Phil, amused at the oddity 
of the occurrence. “Is that it, Cartwright?” 

“That’s it, sir. With sharp eyes like yours you’ll have 
no difficulty in following that thin line of ‘middlings’ 


139 


A Trail of Middlings. 

straight to the farmer’s barnyard — that is, if he doesn’t 
live too far away, so that the contents of the sack do not 
give out before he reaches his destination.” 

“Did yez ever hear av the loike av that!” exclaimed 
# Mamie. “I expect ye’ll be afther makin’ a Sherlock 
Holmes out o’ yersilf, Rushy.” 

“I’m engaged in a search,” returned Phil, “and I’m de- 
termined to carry it through to a successful finish.” 

“Shall I go along, Phil ?” asked Walt. 

“I’ve got something else for you to do, old man. Come 
with me and I’ll tell you what it is. I’ll take you with 
me, Wister. Get off your make-up and be ready to go.’ 

Phil and Walt walked out of the horse tent and toward 
the place where Bumpers had been left with Dora and 
Frances. 

“Walt,” said our hero, “I want you to take the boy, 
Francis, and go into town after warrants for Art Love- 
joy, Reddy and Bumpers. The boy will swear them out. 
Then have an officer or two follow Wister and me along 
that trail of middlings, and another come after Reddy and 
Bumpers.” 

“What is the tramp doing over there?” queried Walt, 
pointing to the place where Bumpers, was sitting at the 
side of the band chariot. 

“I hypnotized him and tried an experiment, which 
failed to work. I’ll wake him up, and you can leave 
him with Curly till the warrants are secured and officers 
come for him and Reddy.” 

“The mystery of the unknown rider has been revealed, 
has it?” 


140 A Trail of Middlings. 

“Yes, but in confidence, so that I am not able to give 
you any particulars, old man. In this search I am about 
to make I am helping Frances. After you start the offi- 
cers along in the direction I have taken, come back and 
assume charge of things here. This matter must be 
cleared up before we are ready to load the show to-night. 
I do not know how long I will be away, Walt, but I will 
surely get back in time to take the train. If I have not 
finished my search by that time, I will have to leave the 
matter in the hands of the officers. However, I am in 
hopes to wind the affair up.” 

When they joined the two girls and the tramp, Phil 
explained his plans, and Frances at once acceded to them. 
Then Rush snapped his fingers in the tramp’s face and 
commanded him to “Awake !” Bumpers opened his eyes 
and looked around him, apparently very much at sea. At 
least he seemed to grasp the situation. 

“Was I any good, boss?” he asked. 

“About as good a subject as I ever saw,” answered 
Phil. 

“Do I get it?” 

“You get this,” said Phil, throwing him a dollar. “For 
the present you will have to consider yourself a prisoner. 
As you said, Bumpers, you were found in bad company, 
but you will have a chance to prove your innocence, if you 
can do so.” 

The tramp’s bleared eyes opened to their widest extent 
and his jaw fell as he looked at our hero. 

“Am I goin’ ter be arrested ?” he demanded. 

“Yes.” 


A Trail of Middlings. 


141 


“For what?” 

“For concealing a letter in the head of that wooden 
image on your left there, and for various other things in 
connection with that letter.” 

Bumpers dropped back against the wheel of the chariot. 

“Say, how do you know that ?” he fluttered. 

“After you were hypnotized, you were obliging enough 
to go and get a paper from the place where you had hid- 
den the letter.” 

“And you hypnotized me jest ter make me do that?” 

“That was all.” 

“Gee! If I ain’t the biggest fool in seven States I 
don’t want a cent! You’ve got the letter now, have 
you ?” 

“No.” 

“But you jest said ” 

“I just said you got a paper from the place where you 
had hidden the letter. That paper wasn’t the letter, how- 
ever. Can you read writing, Bumpers?” 

“If the words ain’t got too many letters in ’em I can.” 

“Then look at this.” 

Phil handed him the paper that had been found in the 
wooden figure, and he spelled it through, his face twist- 
ing into a ludicrous expression of astonishment and 
chagrin as he read the signature. 

“This beats the Dutch, by jiminy!” he exclaimed. “I’m 
ready to go to jail. In fact, I ought ter be behind the 
bars, ’cause I’m mentally incompetent, as the lawyers say, 
an’ haven’t any right ter be runnin’ around loose.” 


143 


A Trail of Middlings. 


At that juncture Wister rode up, leading Phil’s horse. 

“Take care of him, Walt,” said Phil, leaping into the 
saddle. 

“And you take care of yourself, Philip,” cautioned 
Dora. “D’Or may have a revolver and do some 
shooting.” 

“If he does, little girl,” smiled Phil, ‘Til keep out of 
his way. Good-by!” 

Every moment was of value, and our hero did not wish 
to lose any more time than was absolutely necessary. He 
and Wister rode off at a gallop. When they reached the 
road, Cartwright was there to point out the trail for them 
and see that they were started properly. The streak of 
middlings was quite thin but plain and easily followed. 

“This reminds me of a game we used to play when I 
went to school,” remarked Phil, as he and Wister started 
west at a swinging pace. “They call it ‘hare and 
hounds/ ” 

“I’ve heard of it,” said Wister. 

For half an hour they continued their steady jog west- 
ward, and then the trail turned into a farmyard. The 
farm buildings were in a dilapidated condition, and every- 
thing about the place bespoke a shiftless and slipshod 
owner. 

“Eureka!” cried the young showman, as they trotted 
through the gate. “I don’t know what a ‘democrat’ 
wagon is, but I’ll bet something handsome that that’s the 
vehicle beside the barn.” 


A Trail of Middlings. 


M3 


“I know what it is, and you’re right,” said Wister. 
‘‘There are a number of bags in the back, and the one 
near the endgate is less than a quarter full. That must 
have been the one that sprang the leak.” 

Hitching their horses to a couple of posts, they made 
their way toward the house, a freckle-faced little girl in 
a gingham dress and sunbonnet suddenly confronting 
them. 

“Who lives here, sis?” asked Phil, stooping down and 
patting the child’s cheek. 

“Pap an’ mam,” she lisped. 

“Pap just got back from town, did he?” 

“Yeth, thir. Pap went for the grith ” 

“The grist?” 

“Yeth, thir, an’ mam’s givin’ him fith ’cauth he lotht a 
whole bag o’ middlin’s.” 

“That’s too bad ! Did any one come home with pap ?” 

“Yeth, thir, a man from town. Mam’s givin’ pap fith 
about that, too, ’cauth we don’t want no visitorth, we 
don’t, not when they come to thupper. Did you come to 
thay to thupper?” 

“No. Is pap and mam and the visitor in the house ?” 

“Yeth, sir.” 

“Thanks, sis. Here’s a nickel for you. We’ll go on 
and see pap.” 

Phil gave the child a five-cent piece, and he and Wister 
continued on to the house and rapped at the front door. 

A man in overalls answered their summons. 


144 


A Trail of Middlings. 


‘‘What do ye want?” he asked. 

“I’d like to have a word with the man you brought out 
from town.” 

“Didn’t bring no man out from town ’ceptin’ myself, 
an’ I’ll be hanged if I don’t wisht I hadn’t brought my- 
self, the way the ole woman has been combin’ me down. 
An’ all on account of a measly bag o’ middlin’s, too.” 

“Your little girl tells me you did bring a man with you 
from town, and that he’s in this house now.” 

“Well, what of it? Haven’t I got a right to bring a 
man from town with me if I want to? That’s ’nother 
thing I’m gettin’ Hail Columby for. I git so mad some- 
times I wisht I hadn’t been born.” 

“You’ll wish you hadn’t been born if you don’t tell 
the truth about this man you brought with you.” 

“Who be you so high an’ mighty, I’d like to know? It 
looks a good deal like you’d come here to make trouble. 
If that’s the case, you trot right off this forty, an’ do it 
quick, too! Trot!” 

While the farmer was talking Phil caught a glimpse 
of Love joy leaving from a rear door and making off to- 
ward the barn, passing the well on his way. The well 
was an open one, with a bucket that was raised and low- 
ered by means of a “sweep.” 

As he darted past the curb Love joy dropped something 
into the well. 

“There he goes !” exclaimed Wister, excitedly. 

“And here we go after him,” said Phil, starting in 
pursuit. 


x 45 


A Trail of Middlings. 

“He threw something into the well !” 

“I saw him, but we’ll look into that after he’s run 
down.” 

Lovejoy made straight for the barn and disappeared 
inside, Phil and Wister close after him. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


LINKS OF EVIDENCE. 

A ladder near the barn door gave accesss to the hay- 
mow, and as Phil and Wister hurried in they saw Love- 
joy’s feet disappearing through the mow opening. 

In a trice the young showman sprang to the ladder and 
began a rapid ascent. 

“Look out for him, Mr. Rushington !” warned Wister. 
“He may be armed.” 

So Phil thought, and it was his aim to follow so tight 
on the fugitive’s heels that he would have no opportunity 
to draw and make use of a weapon if he happened tO' pos- 
sess it. Hay was banked all around the square hole at 
the top of the ladder, and Love joy was floundering 
through it in his efforts to get away when Phil sprang 
upon him. 

Lovejoy rose to his knees, faced about and threw his 
arms around Phil, and they went rolling over in a furious 
“clinch.” Phil got a firm clasp about his antagonist’s 
throat, and the latter compressed his locked arms until 
the young showman’s ribs almost cracked beneath the ter- 
rific pressure. 

It was patent to Phil that ‘the modern Samson” was 
no misnomer in Love joy’s case. The question the youth 
asked himself was, Would he be able to strangle Love- 
joy before Lovejoy rendered him helpless by that awful 
pressure? But the matter never came to such an issue. 


Links of Evidence. 


147 


Their struggle in the hay brought them abruptly to an 
open door in the barn wall. They were on the very edge, 
and both released their arms to grab at something and 
save themselves a fall. 

Phil succeeded in staying himself, but Love joy’s wildly 
groping hands clutched nothing but the atmosphere, and 
he dropped to the ground. Fortunately for him, the 
ground was soft, so that he hardly bruised himself. In 
a flash he was up and heading for the place where Phil 
and Wister had secured their horses. 

His object was plain, and his chances for escape would 
have been good had not a large, frowsy-headed woman 
suddenly stepped around the corner of the barn. She 
carried an old-fashioned, muzzle-loading shotgun, and 
she raised it to her shoulder, cocked the trigger and drew 
a bead on Lovejoy. 

“Stop, now!” she cried. “You stop, I say, or I’ll fill 
you as full o’ holes as a sieve. I can see gallows in yer 
face as plain as I can read print in a book, an’ it beats 
me how you ever got around Josh so’s to get him to tote 
ye out here.” 

“Don’t shoot!” yelled Lovejoy, in trepidation. “Take 
your finger oft that trigger.” 

“Will you stop an 1 behave yourself?” 

“Yes, only be careful with that gun; you’re too con- 
foundedly careless with it.” 

“Meblpy I am, but I ain’t keerless when it comes to 
hittin’ a mark, ’specially a mark as big as you be. Come 
closter, Mister Man.” 

Lovejoy slowly advanced upon the threatening muzzle. 


148 


Links of Evidence. 


“Not too dost,” said the woman, at last. “That’ll do. 
Now set down. That’s right. Got the tuck all took out 
o’ ye, eh? My, but ye’re meek as Moses.” At that mo- 
ment Phil dropped down from the loft and approached 
from one side, while Wister, coming out of the barn door, 
advanced from the other. The woman never took her 
eyes off Lovejoy, nor allowed the gun to waver by a 
hair’s breadth. “Who be you uns,” she asked, “an’ who 
is this man here, an’ what’s he done?” 

“My name’s Rushington, mam,” said Phil. “Pm the 
proprietor of the show that got into town this morn- 
ing ” 

“Sho! Ye’re right young to be the boss of a circus, 
’pears to me. If Josh hadn’t lost that bag o’ middlin’s 
we might have took in the puffomance this evenin’. I’m 
M’ri Hackett ” 

“If you’ll come to the show this evening, Mrs. Hackett, 
and ask for me,” broke in Phil, “I’ll see that you and the 
little girl get in.” 

“Much obliged to ye, I’m sure. Reckon we’ll come. 
But you haven’t told me about this feller here. I knew 
there was somethin’ wrong with him when he rushed 
through the house an’ out the back door after hearin’ you 
ask for him, so I took down this coon gun and made 
tracks for the outside myself. What’s he done?” 

“He was one of my performers, and has done enough 
things to show him the inside of a penitentiary ” 

“Now you’re talking through your hat, Rushington,” 
cut in Lovejoy. “Arkwright got to makin’ free with my 


Links of Evidence. 


149 

property, an’ I didn’t have to stand your layout any 
longer.” 

“So you tied Arkwright hand and foot, gagged him, 
buried him under a pile of blankets and made a run of 
it,” added Phil. “You didn’t even stop to get the money 
due you, or take your trunk.” 

“You’ll find we aren’t at the end of this thing yet,” 
blustered Lovejoy. 

“That’s right,” said Phil, “and you’ll find you’ve got 
the hot end of it at the finish. Officers are coming this 
way after you, and they’ve got a warrant. Mrs. Hackett, 
kindly let my friend take that gun and keep guard over 
the prisoner until the officers arrive. I’d like to have 
you go with me to the well while I take a dip into the 
water in search of some papers that the prisoner threw in 
there.” - 

“You won’t take no dip into any water in that well, 
Mr. Rushington,” said Mrs. Hackett, relinquishing the 
gun to Wister. 

“No?” returned Phil. “Why not?” 

“ ’Cause it’s been dry for two months, an’ we’ve been 
totin’ the water from the spring down in the creek 
bottom.” 

“Good!” laughed Phil. “That last move of yours 
didn’t pan out very well, Lovejoy.” 

Lovejoy had become suddenly pale, and he muttered 
anathemas to himself as our hero and Mrs. Hackett 
walked off toward the well. 

Pulling down the sweep, Phil lowered the bucket to the 
bottom ; then, grasping the rope, he let himself down into 


Links of Evidence. 


150 

the dark depths, secured a white roll fastened with a rub- 
ber band and climbed up again. 

Josh Hackett had joined his wife at the well curb, and 
the latter was giving him a tongue lashing for taking up 
with jail-birds, “totin’ ” them home and letting them loose 
in the bosom of his “fambly.” 

Josh had nothing to say to her, but he sneaked around 
to Phil’s side like a whipped cur and began to make ex- 
cuses for himself. Pie perhaps feared that he would be 
haled to court to answer for what he had done. 

“I bear you no malice, Mr. Hackett,” said Phil. “It’s 
true you tried to screen the prisoner when you met me and 
my friend at the door of your house, but I venture to say 
he had deceived you, and that you did not know what kind 
of a man he was.” 

“That’s jest what he done!” declared Josh. “I’m a 
law-abidin’ man myself, an’ can’t bear them as ain’t. If 
I’d a-had the least idee the feller was a rascal, I’d have 
smashed him, yes, sir.” 

“Well,” went on the young showman, “there is no doubt 
but that you could be brought to book for what you have 
done, but I’m going to set off your wife’s brave action 
against yours. You have her to thank for your freedom, 
Mr. Hackett.” 

Thereupon Phil gave his attention to the packet he held 
in his hand. On removing the rubber band be found he 
had two folded papers. The first was the letter for which 
he was searching, and read as follows : 

“Dr. Levering: There’s a man in bad shape out near 


Links of Evidence. 


I5i 

the old Hadley place. He was thrown from his horse and 
has been unconscious for several hours. If you do not 
give him immediate attention he may die. Will you come 
at once? The messenger will take you to the place. 

“Amos Ardsley.” 

“Ardsley has signed it himself !” exclaimed Phil. “This 
gives Frances and her lover a better case than I thought.” 

The second document was the one that made the chain 
of evidence complete. It ran thus : 

“Lovejoy: Your scheme is O. K. I’ve picked up a 
tramp here whom I can depend on, and he will take a mes- 
sage to Levering, from me, that will get him out in the 
vicinity of the old Hadley place at midnight. The Rush- 
ington Circus train, as I understand it, will not leave until 
one o’clock in the morning. That will give you and your 
pal time to do the work after the show and then get away 
on the train. The tramp will help you. He’s all right. 
Don’t let Levering get away, and be sure and get back 
the letter I sent him by the hobo. I’ll be at Hadley’s at 
eleven for the needed properties. My letter to Levering, 
and this one as well, I shall expect you to mail back to me 
at the first opportunity, and I shall withhold balance to be 
paid you until both are at hand. A.” 

“That clinches Levering’s case!” muttered the young 
circus owner. “This second letter is signed with an ‘A’ 
only ; but the handwriting is identical with the other letter ; 
in this he says he has written the other, and the 
other is signed. These documents will certainly bring 
about the release of Levering, and Major Ardsley will 
have all he can do to keep from going to jail with Bump- 
ers, Reddy and Lovejoy.” 


15 ^ 


Links of Evidence. 


Just then a sound of galloping came from the road. 
Phil cast his eyes in that direction and saw a party of four 
turning into the farmyard. Two were men, undoubtedly 
officers, and the remaining two were Frances Ardsley and 
Dora Warren. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


THE PROOFS. 

“Mr. Rushington,” said Frances, as the quartet rode up 
to the well and drew rein, “is that man over there the one 
we are seeking?” 

While speaking she pointed toward Wister and the 
man he was covering with the shotgun. 

“Yes,” said Rush; “that is Lovejoy. Did you have any 
difficulty in following the trail ?” 

“None whatever,” answered Dora. “These two gentle- 
men are the officers, Philip.” 

The men nodded as Phil looked toward them. 

“We’re to take that fellow with us, are we?” asked 
one. 

“Have you the warrant ?” 

“We have. Everything is shipshape and we’re ready 
for business.” 

“Where are the other two ?” 

“Behind the bars, by this time.” 

“Good ! Take your man. He is the last of the trio.” 

The officer rode over to Lovejoy, placed him under ar- 
rest, and then began bargaining with Josh Hackett for a 
horse on which to take the prisoner back to town. Love- 
joy was entirely subdued and submitted without resistance 
or comment. 

While this was going forward Frances had approached 


*54 


The Proofs. 


closer to our hero, and asked in a voice that trembled 
with anxiety : 

“The letter, Mr. Rushington! Did you find it about 
Lovejoy ?” 

“When we went to the house to get him Lovejoy fled 
to the barn. I saw him throw something into the well 
as he passed it, and ” 

“Into the well!” echoed Frances, chokingly. “Then 
the letter was destroyed and all our work has been in 
vain !” 

“Oh, no,” smiled Phil. “There happens to be no water 
in the well, Frances, and I climbed down into it and got 
the packet Lovejoy threw away.” 

“Then you have the letter?” 

“I have, and it is not injured at all. There it is.” 

Supreme happiness shone in her face as she reached 
from her saddle and took the letter from Phil’s hand. 

“Why,” she exclaimed, “it is signed by Uncle Amos 
himself ! It will clear Mr. Levering, don’t you think ?” 

“If it doesn’t,” returned Phil, “this will do so beyond all 
doubt.” 

Lie handed her the second letter. 

“Where did that come from?” she said. 

“Lovejoy threw it into the well with the other one. The 
writing of letters has got more than one rogue into diffi- 
culty, and it is not to be wondered at that Major Ardsley 
fell into his own trap. Bumpers had the first letter and 
Lovejoy the second. When Lovejoy discovered the tramp 
hiding his document, it was easy to secure it and put the 


The Proofs. 


155 


two notes together. In this way Love joy possessed him- 
self of sufficient material to send the major to the peni- 
tentiary, and was undoubtedly going to hold the evidence 
until he got his price.” 

“Mr. Rushington,” said Frances, “how can I ever thank 
you?” 

“It’s impossible for you to do it,” returned Phil, smil- 
ing, “so I wouldn’t try.” Drawing his watch from his 
pocket, he had a look at the time. “If we hurry,” he 
added, “we can get back and have a little supper before 
the grand entry. The officers have gone with Lovejoy, so 
we might as well trail after them.” 

Wister had already mounted, and now came forward 
leading Phil’s horse. As the latter swung into the saddle 
Mrs. Hackett leaned on her shotgun and anxiously asked : 

“You won’t forget the promise you made about lettin’ 
us in, will you, Mr. Rushington?” 

“Certainly not,” he laughed. “All you’ll have to do will 
be to ask for me. Good-by !” 

He waved his hand at Mrs. Hackett, Josh and the little 
girl in the sunbonnet as he rode away with his three com- 
panions. 

Frances Ardsley’s first appearance in the ring was 
also her last. On the way back she declared that she 
would ride again if necessary to fill out the programme, 
and she begged to be allowed to do so as a slight expres- 
sion of her gratitude to Phil for all that he had done for 
her. While our hero could not very well refuse, at the 
same time he did not care to have her do this, and he was 


The Proofs. 


156 

glad to find, when they got back to the lot, that Eona 
was on hand and determined to play her part as usual. 

That night Frances bade Phil, Dora and Walt good-by 
and returned to Edwardsville, the prisoners also going on 
the same train in charge of two officers. For several days 
Phil heard nothing further concerning the mystery of 
“the unknown rider of the ring,” and then he received 
the following letter at one of the towns where the Moss- 
man & Rushington Circus and Hippodrome had pitched 
its tents : 

“Dear Mr. Rushington : I am writing to you, from 
the depths of my heart, for the generous assistance you 
rendered Miss Ardsley in searching for a clew to prove 
my innocence in a certain matter which was explained to 
you by her. I was unfortunate and with only one friend 
in the world — the dear little girl who dared so much in 
my behalf, and who would have fared so ill but for 
yourself. 

“I was released from prison as soon as my lawyer 
presented my case to Major Ardsley. More than that, 
at the entreaty of the major, the case against him was 
dropped, he turning over to his ward every dollar of her 
money that had been left by her father. The major was 
practically ruined, and has left for parts unknown to be- 
gin another and, let us hope, a better life. I was some- 
what loath to let Ardsley go in this way, but Frances 
coupled her entreaties with his, and so won the day for 
the major. 

“I was also more than unwilling to spare Love joy, 
Reddy and Bumpers, but it would have been impossible to 
prosecute them without dragging in the major, and if we 
let the major off, there was nothing else to do with his 


The Proofs. 


157 

confederates. At any rate, I have been sufficiently vindi- 
cated and am content. 

“Frances and I are very happy, and feel that this con- 
dition of affairs is due largely to yourself ; so, in sending 
you the inclosed invitation to our wedding, I thank you 
again and again, and beg to subscribe myself your sin- 
cere friend, Archibald LEVERING. ,, 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE BACK OF A “BUCKER " 

“Whoop! Look out for him, Rush! That pony is a 
kicker from Kickersville ! Better let one of your cow- 
boys handle that beast; he isn’t safe for a civilized indi- 
vidual to tamper with !” 

Walt cried out this warning all in one breath, then he 
waited to see what was going to happen. 

“Whoa! Stand still, Pepper! None of your monkey 
shines with me, old boy ! I’m no ‘broncho-buster,’ but I 
guess I am able to handle a pony !’’ 

Phil sprang lightly from the back of a vicious-looking 
beast as he spoke, and with a good-natured slap on the 
creature’s neck, turned him over to the grinning cowboy 
that came running up to them. 

“I thought I’d seen the last of you, Rush/’ said Ark- 
wright, again. “Gee! I’ll bet you are hungry after all 
that bouncing !” 

“He did stir up my liver a little, I confess,” said Phil, 
“but I was determined he shouldn’t throw me, and I guess 
I made him understand it.” 

“You make every one understand you sooner or later,” 
said his chum, laughing. “You have a way of using the 
English language that leaves no man in doubt as to your 
true meaning when you speak to him, but really, Rush, 
you ought not to ‘monkey with the buzz-saw’ that way ! 


The Back of a “Slicker.” 


159 


You’ll get hurt some day, while you are experimenting 
with these animals.” 

“Pshaw! I’m no tenderfoot, Walt! I’ve been on a 
horse before ! That little brute can be handled all right ; 
all one needs is a cool head and an indifference to the fu- 
ture! Take him back to the horse tent and have him 
rubbed down,” he said to the cowboy, “then for goodness’ 
sake tame him a little if you can ! It will never do to put 
him in the ring as he is ; he’d raise a riot among the other 
horses, to say nothing of wanting to eat the elephant !” 

“He’s pretty hot stuff,” said the cowboy, as he tried to 
spring on the pony’s back. In a second the little beast 
jumped spitefully to one side. He had no idea of letting 
the fellow mount him. 

The cowboy crowded up to him and took a good grip 
of the shaggy mane. 

“Now, then ! One, two, three !” cried Phil, and the fel- 
low made a leap for the pony’s back. 

“They’re off !” yelled Walt, and then his eyes flew open. 

There was a quick bunching of the pony’s four legs, 
then his back humped up suddenly and the cowboy shot 
up toward the roof of the tent as straight as though a 
bomb had exploded under him. 

Walt burst out laughing. It looked very funny to him 
now. When his friend had occupied that uncertain seat 
he had managed by some miracle not to meet with quite 
such an adventure. 

“He’s the best Tucker’ we’ve got ! Where did you find 
him, Rush ?” 


i6o 


The Back of a “Bucker.” 


The cowboy had landed safely before he asked the ques- 
tion. 

Phil waited until the pony had been successfully 
mounted and was scampering toward the horse tent before 
he answered. 

“Carpenter, my old advance agent, secured him for me. 
He’s a treasure, all right, but he needs discipline. The 
fellow that named him ‘Pepper’ must have understood his 
nature.” 

The two friends walked slowly from the ring in the 
big tent where they had been trying the new pony, and as 
they went Rush looked sharply about to see that every- 
thing was in order. 

They had been performing in little Southern towns for 
nearly a week, and good business had accompanied every 
performance. 

Of course, every colored man, woman and child for 
miles around had come to the “show,” as well as all the 
“pqor white trash” and “quality folks,” as the niggers 
called them. 

The circus was not as large as some traveling circuses, 
but it contained a great many really wonderful attractions. 

There were lions, tigers, camels, dromedaries, a number 
of fine horses, two trick elephants and a host of smaller 
animals, and the performers themselves were the best in 
the business. 

Unfortunately, the only panther in the show had re- 
cently died, but Rush had already ordered another from 
a Northern “zoo,” and meanwhile he had had his old pet 
stuffed and put in a cage, in order that she might help to 


The Back of a “Bucker.” 


161 


swell the line in street parades, which in these small towns 
was an important feature. 

When Phil and his chum had seen that everything was 
all right in the tent they went out and interviewed the man 
whose duty it was to sell the tickets. 

“Best advance sale yet,” said the ticket man the minute 
he saw them. “There’ll be a crowd at the afternoon per- 
formance, Mr. Rushington. I never saw so many tickets 
gobbled in advance. Why, the people act as if they were 
afraid there wasn’t going to be room for ’em, and one coon 
actually asked me if I was ‘sarting sho’ dese hyah tickets 
was good, fo’ he jes’ wouldn’t miss dat yah show no- 
how !’ ” 

Phil and Walt both laughed at the darky’s words. 

“I’m glad they like us,” said the young showman, as he 
glanced at the depleted packages of tickets. “It’s nice to 
be appreciated, no matter what line of business one is in, 
and the people can’t say but what we give them the worth 
of their money.” 

“Yer bet dey can’t!” cried a rousing voice just outside 
of the thin wall of canvas. 

“Ther jay who says dat Rushin’ton’s show ain’t wuth 
ther price had better pack up an’ skeddadle home ter his 
mudder ! ’Twouldn’t do fer him ter stay here an’ face dis 
yer galoot ! Git his head smashed quicker ’n scat !” 

Phil recognized the voice as that of Burt Wister, and 
had to smile at his enthusiastic jargon. 

As Phil and Walt dropped down in the grass behind the 
flap of canvas our hero started in on a serious conver- 
sation. 


162 


The Back of a “Bucker.” 


“The show still needs new attractions, Walt ! Another 
special feature will just about do it, but what shall it be, 
a talking donkey or a singing hyena ? Rack your brains, 
old man, for I assure you I am serious !” 

“Suppose we get some red paint and change the spots on 
the leopard or whitewash the camel and call him the ‘sa- 
cred camel of the desert ?” Such things have been done 
before in every circus on record !” 

Walt’s suggestions were made without the slightest 
hesitation. It was only another proof of his loyal friend- 
ship. 

“I hate to ‘fake,’ Walt! It don’t seem fair nor honor- 
able ! If I could only get that boxing kangaroo that 
Elmer Warren told me of, but I guess it’s no go ; the 
owner won’t part with him.” 

“Then what’s the matter with a ‘What Is It,’ Rush? 
Barnum had one, you know, and it helped to make him 
famous !” 

“What was it, anyway?” 

“Give it up! Ask me something easy, old man, but, 
hello ! Here comes Mamie ; perhaps she can tell you !” 

Rushington’s face had been serious, but now, as the 
little Irish dancer came tripping toward them, his lips 
curved in a smile that made him positively handsome. 

“Arrah ! Here yez are, and me a-lookin’ for ye for the 
last tin minutes! Sure, there’s throuble in the air! I 
smell it!” she cried, as she tilted her pretty nose in the air 
and began sniffing vigorously. 

“You bet there’s trouble, Mamie !” cried Arkwright, 
laughing. “The boss has got a ‘bee in his bonnet.’ He’s 


The Back of a “Bucker.” 163 

on the warpath for fair, and what do you suppose he is 
after?” 

The little Irish girl stopped sniffing and stared at Rush- 
ington. 

“Somebody’s scalp, av coorse ! It wouldn’t be himself 
if he wasn’t !” 

“Not this time,” laughed Phil, good-naturedly. “Guess 
again, Mamie. It’s a conundrum !” 

“Sure, phwat’s a conoondrum?” asked the Irish girl, 
quickly. “Is it something to ate, or is it just a bird, or a 
fish, that ye are after buyin’, Rushy?” 

“Well, it will have to be both bird and fish, with perhaps 
a bit of hyena and ourang-outang thrown in,” cried our 
hero, grinning. 

“Aw ! Go ’long wid yez, Rushy ! Phwat be ye givin’ 
us, anyway? Faith, a cravter av the loikes av that same 
would queer the whole circus !” 

“I don’t think so,” said Walt, who had suddenly drawn 
his face down to great seriousness. 

“We must have it! We are shy on attractions,” said 
the young showman, in a solemn tone. “It’s an awful 
beast to own, but we’ve got to corral it.” 

“They come high, but we must have ’em,” echoed Ark- 
wright, dolefully. “Oh, Mamie, didn’t you ever hear of 
Barnum’s ‘What Is It?’” 

At this question the young girl gave a shriek of delight. 

“A frake, is it, then, Rushy! A rale, genooine coori- 
osity! Oh, it’s Mamie Meagen herself that’ll help yez 
catch the unhowly baste, for there’s no ind of thim at the 
show ivery day and evenin’ !” 


164 


The Back of a “Bucker.” 


“What the dickens do you mean?” asked Phil, staring 
at the little dancer. “I’m talking of a ‘What Is It/ a crea- 
ture without genus, class or species, a curio, a wonder, a 
monstrosity, an anomaly !” 

“The old b’y take your big words !” said Mamie, coolly. 
“Faith, it’s thim very same that I was sp’akin’ of. There’s 
one of them now jest a-crapin’ under the tint !” 

Both Phil and Walt turned their heads to look in the 
direction in which she was pointing, and as they did so, 
both received a perfect shower of fine sand all over them. 

“Tak’ that' for your coonoondrum !” shrieked Mamie, 
as she darted away. “Faith, it’s not Mamie who cares to 
be fooled by the loikes of ye !” 

“I’ll pay you for that!” called out Walt, as he tried to 
keep the sand from running down under his collar. “Stand 
on your head, Rush, quick, before it runs down ! The lit- 
tle minx ! We’ll rig up that ‘What Is It’ and scare her out 
of her wits. It’s the only way to break her of her mis- 
chievous didoes !” 

“She wouldn’t be Mamie without her pranks,” said Phil, 
laughing. “Now, where do you suppose she had that sand 
while she stood here talking.” 

He was taking one shoe off as he spoke in order to 
knock a lot of sand out of it. 

Walt thought a minute before he answered : 

“Had it in her hat, I’ll bet ! Didn’t you see how care- 
fully she held it? She often goes bareheaded, so I didn’t 
pay any attention.” 

“Neither did I,” said Phil, and then both attended 


The Back of a “Bucker.” 165 

strictly to the business of getting rid of sand for a few 
minutes. 

As soon as this was done satisfactorily they sat down 
again and Arkwright started another conversation. 

“I say, old man, there is something in the air, just as 
Mamie says, but have you any idea what it is ?” 

“I know I’ve got another tricky ringmaster, if that is 
what you mean,? said Phil, slowly, “and Smith, the 
trainer, is an ugly individual. They both of them hate 
me, and for what reason, Walt? Simply because I insist 
that they shall do their work properly !” 

“It’s because you are so young, I guess,” answered his 
friend. “They are willing to take your money, but they 
don’t want to take your bossing.” 

“And I don’t want to ‘boss’ them, I am sure! I hate 
bossing!” said Phil, honestly, “but I am running this 
show, and they have got to toe the mark !” 

“They may get over it,” said his friend, soberly. “I 
don’t think Gray is so bad, but Smith is a tartar !” 

“They’ll both bear watching,” said the young showman, 
shortly, “but just at present there’s something else to be 
thought of. 

“Yes, the freak,” laughed Walt, who knew at once what 
he meant. “It will be a great scheme to have a ‘What Is 
It ! I’d give a dollar to know how Barnum did it !” 

“How Barnum did what?” asked a sweet voice just 
behind him. 

Walt turned and saw Isabel Currier, the bareback rider, 
coming toward them. 


i66 


The Back of a “Bucker.” 


“Halt! Hold on there! Have you got any sand?” 
called out Phil. 

“Any quantity of it! Don’t you know that already?” 
asked Isabel, sweetly. 

“I mean, have you any up your sleeves ?” said our hero, 
laughing. “I know you’ve plenty in your composition.” 

“What in the world do you mean?” asked Isabel, won- 
deringly. 

Walt told her of the trick Mamie had just played on 
them. 

“Oh, she’s going to do a ‘wing dance,’ on the raised 
platform this afternoon,” said Isabel, laughing; “that’s 
how she came to have the sand, you know she has to 
sprinkle it on the platform in order to make that funny 
scraping.” 

“That’s a good idea,” said Walt, looking at Phil. “Is 
that another of your suggestions, old fellow ?” 

“I believe I did mention it,” said our hero. “Mamie 
does coon dances beautifully, even if she is Irish.” 

“She’s a daisy, any way vou take her,” said Walt, 
quickly, “and you think so much of her, Rush, that it’s a 
wonder both Dora and Isabel are not jealous.” 

“I can’t answer for Dora, but I’m not so foolish,” said 
Isabel, with her chin in the air. “If Phil prefers other 
girls to me he can have them and welcome. I know one 
or two gentlemen who prefer my company.” 

“You mean Joe Dillon, for one,” said Walt, with a grin. 
“Dillon, the handsome new clown, is sweet on you, isn’t 
he?” 


The Back of a “Bucker.” 167 

“Don’t you wish you knew?” asked Isabel, loftily, but 
as she spoke she looked at Phil to see how he took it. 

But Phil Rushington was not wearing his heart on his 
sleeve. This mention of his old sweetheart, Dora, had set 
him to thinking, but if Isabel’s words hurt him he did not 
intend she should know it. 

The girl was still standing near him as though she had 
something to say, and it suddenly occurred to Phil to get 
rid of Arkwright. 

“By the way, Walt, I wish you’d find Mamie and talk 
that matter over with her,” he said, in a businesslike 
tone. “She was so full of fun just now that she did not 
take the thing seriously, and she’s just the girl to help us 
with the ‘What Is It.’ ” 

Isabel had it on her lips to make a reply, for this looked 
very much as though she was not to be consulted, but 
just at that moment she caught Phil’s eye and a clever 
wink explained the situation. But Walt wasn’t so dull 
but what he understood, too, and with a good-natured 
grin, he sauntered slowly away from them. 

“Don’t get too spooney, you two!” he called over his 
shoulder. “If you do I’ll tell Dillon, and then look out 
for worse trouble !” 


CHAPTER XX. 


THE BATTLE ROYAL. 

“As if I cared what Dillon thought !” said Isabel, 
haughtily, as Walt disappeared around the tent. “I care 
for no man’s opinion but yours, Phil Rushington, and that 
is because you have always been so good to me.” 

“You are good to say so, Isabel,” he said, quickly, “still 
what fellow in the world would not be kind to you, Isabel ? 
But do tell me, if you can, . what Barnum’s ‘What Is IP 
was, for I need a new attraction of some kind.” 

Miss Currier had been a bareback rider for several 
years, and was well posted on all there was to know about 
circuses. 

“I think it was just a deformed boy,” she said, thought- 
fully. “A human monstrosity that he found somewhere in 
North Carolina.” 

Phil could not help shuddering. This did not suit him 
a bit. He had no desire to exhibit any human deformities. 

“Well, Pll go him one better,” he said, springing to his 
feet. “I’ll have a genuine ‘What Is It’ that will set every 
one guessing! I’ll make it myself, and get it patented, 
perhaps; then I’ll be sure that there will never be any 
imitations !” 

“Oh, Phil, you are so amusing !” said Isabel, laughing. 
“Who ever heard of patenting an animal !” 

“But this will have to be a manufactured animal, I’m 


The Battle Royal. 169 

afraid,” was Phil’s smiling reply. “Still, he’ll be a Jim 
Dandy, and don’t you forget it.” 

Isabel walked away laughing while the young show- 
man started off to find his advertising agent. 

Before he found his man a boy came running up to him 
with a telegram. 

“That helps me out a lot,” said Phil, as he read it and 
tucked it safely away in his pocket. 

“The boxing kangaroo has been bought at last, and he’ll 
be here in time for the evening performance.” 

The boy gave a whoop of delight, and started off to tell 
every other boy in the vicinity, and just at that minute 
Phil caught sight of the man he was looking for. 

The advertising agent’s eyes stuck out when the young 
circus owner told him what he wanted, but as there was a 
good job printing house in the town he was soon fulfilling 
his employer’s orders. 

That afternoon when the show opened the tent was 
even more crowded than usual. 

There were lemonade and peanut booths on both sides of 
the entrance, and both these and the “side shows” did a 
thriving business. 

The elephants had quarters by themselves, and both 
they and the horses had separate entrances to the ring 
between the tiers of seats that were built around the ring 
like an amphitheatre. Phil always began a performance 
with a ring parade of all his animals, the dangerous ones 
being exhibited in cages which were drawn around by the 
draft horses and elephants. 


170 


The Battle Royal. 


After this came an exhibition of his male bareback 
riders, who rode six horses abreast as easily as they did 
one, and even rode backward, and on their heads, as the 
fancy pleased them. 

Burt Wister did some slack-rope walking: that was 
thoroughly enjoyed, and then followed this up by some 
excellent tricks of legerdemain, which, although they were 
old, were very entertaining. 

Mamie did her “wing dance’’ to “the queen’s taste,” 
and received great applause, especially as she sang “coon 
songs” to perfection, which seemed to please the crowd 
immensely. 

As for Isabel, “the queen of the ring,” she rode as mag- 
nificently as ever, flying around and around on her horse’s 
back without hardly touching her toes, and looking as light 
as ever. Neither “Eona, the Girl Centaur,” nor the “Un- 
known Rider of the Ring” could quite imitate her grace of 
motion, although both of these performers had been great 
attractions at other towns where the circus had been sta- 
tioned. 

Joe Dillon, the new clown, was a wonderful fellow, 
and his antics were so funny that they kept the tent in a 
roar. No one would have dreamed that this painted har- 
lequin was really a very handsome young man, for he 
looked more like a Jumping Jack than a human being. 
Then there was Zara, the new trapeze performer, who had 
just been secured. She was not only as dainty and pretty 
as a fairy, but her thrilling feats in midair nearly paralyzed 
her audience. 

The two trick elephants were finally brought into the 


The Battle Royal. iji 

ring, and Gray, the ringmaster, announced that they had 
just learned a new trick that was simply wonderful. 

“Ladies and gentlemen !” he shouted, “we thank you for 
your kind attention to and appreciation of the many mar- 
velous feats which we have had the honor to exhibit be- 
fore you, and now it remains for us to claim that kind ap- 
preciation once more, for you are about to witness a most 
extraordinary spectacle, illustrating magnificently the skill 
of man in the training of animals, for never before in the 
history of a circus were there ever two such intelligent 
creatures brought together as you now see before you ! 
These two elephants, the acknowledged giants of the 
jungle, have been taught, not only the tricks which you 
have already seen, but they have also accomplished an- 
other feat, they have learned to ‘shoot craps’ as well as a 
darky!” 

There was a tremendous shout at this, especially from 
the small boys in the seats, then some one in the audience 
bawled out : 

“Come off! What are you givin’ us? An elephant 
shoot craps ! Well, that’s a good one, but do you take us 
for jays or just doggoned ninnies?” 

Of course, Phil had hired the fellow to bawl out this re- 
mark, but the audience did not know it, and they got ex- 
cited at once. 

“You bet they can do it if Mr. Rushington says so!” 
yelled a boy on one of the rear seats who had great ad- 
miration for the young showman. 

“Well, I do say so!” shouted Phil, as he sprang sud- 


172 


The Battle Royal. 

denly into the ring. “And any man who says they can’t 
will have to settle with the elephants !” 

There was great laughter at this, and then the game 
began. 

The trainer of the elephants cracked his heavy whip, and 
after a few orders he had the two clumsy animals in the 
middle of the ring, each with a couple of big dice beside 
him half as big as soap boxes. 

Every neck in the big tent was strained for a better 
look, and when Josephine, the big trick elephant, reached 
around with her trunk and picked up one of the dice the 
people stood up in their seats and roared with pleasure. 

“It’s your turn, Josephine !” called out her trainer, and 
the big elephant promptly “chucked” her dice in an expert 
manner. 

The spectators could hardly believe their eyes as the 
game went on, for the two big creatures actually took 
turns in shaking and throwing the dice, and then seemed 
to listen as the trainer counted the spots on them. 

“Come seben ! Come eleben !” shouted the trainer, sud- 
denly, and at this Josephine raised her trunk and trum- 
peted unmercifully. 

“She don’t like me to talk ‘coon’ talk,” he explained to 
the crowd, although the words were really her “cue” to 
trumpet. 

Just then the other elephant began to trumpet, and as 
they stood face to face they seemed to be talking to each 
other. For a few minutes they made so much noise that 
no one could hear a word, but finally the trainer was able 
to explain their actions. 


I 73 


The Battle Royal. 

“They are quarreling over the game,” he bawled at the 
top of his voice, “and Josephine is insisting upon it that 
she has been cheated. Wait a minute and you will see 
the tallest kind of a scrap !” 

The words were hardly out of his mouth before the 
trumpeting began again, and then Josephine made a lunge 
at her companion with her monstrous trunk that did not 
look to every one as if she meant business. The trainer 
watched the two beasts carefully with his whip in his 
hand. It was a daring experiment to set them to quar- 
reling with each other. 

The two animals had never been very good friends, 
anyway, and this new trick that he had taught them had 
not sweetened their dispositions. 

After striking at each other several times and trum- 
peting loudly, the trainer saw that it was time to call them 
to order. 

Phil saw it, too, from his position outside of the ring, 
and his face grew anxious as he watched the trainer. 

What did $he fellow mean, anyway, by letting them get 
so excited ? He had warned him over and over not to let 
it happen. But there the fellow stood like a graven image 
not even raising his voice or whip to stop them. 

As the crowd watched the trainer they felt sure that it 
was all right. 

Although it seemed to Phil that any one with half an 
eye in his head might have seen that the monstrous beasts 
were becoming unmanageable. 

But the people were actually urging them on. They 


174 The Battle Royal. 

had so much faith in the trainer that they did not fear the 
consequences. 

“Go for him, Josephine !” yelled one. 

“You can lick him all right! I’ll bet on Josephine, 
she’s a dandy scrapper!” 

“Throw him down, McClusky !” shouted another voice. 
“Do him up brown, old girl! Let it be a fight to the 
finish !” 

Whether all this shouting excited the elephants or not, 
our hero could not tell, but he saw that the beasts were 
getting madder and madder, and if an end was not put to 
the fight at once there would be serious trouble. Jose- 
phine had just locked her trunk in the trunk of her op- 
ponent, and both were glaring angrily at each other. 

In another moment one or the other would be hurt, 
and if this ever happened nothing could prevent a royal 
battle. 

Still the trainer did not move nor raise his voice. It 
was a case of cold-blooded, deliberate recklessness. 


CHAPTER XXL 


PHIL ENDS THE BATTLE. 

At last, when Phil was fairly trembling with rage, he 
saw the trainer raise his whip toward the animals. 

After all, perhaps the man knew the beasts better than 
he did. Our hero waited a second longer, trying hard 
all the time not to show his real feelings. 

“Break away there! Stop, Josephine!” shouted the 
trainer loudly, at the same time bringing his whip down 
heavily on the trunks of both animals. . But Josephine 
did not budge except to begin twisting her trunk, so he 
lashed her again and again to make her let go of her 
opponent. 

Phil could hardly restrain himself, for he saw exactly 
what was coming, but by a heroic effort he acted as cool 
as though nothing unusual was happening. 

“It won’t do to look scared! We’d have a panic in no 
time,” he said to Walt, who had come up to him quietly. 

“They are getting pretty close to the ropes,” answered 
Walt, cautiously. “If they ever clear the ring they’ll 
clean out the tent in a jiffy.” 

“If the people will only keep cool,” said Phil, then his 
eyes dilated with genuine horror. 

The two elephants were thoroughly angry now and they 
were paying no more attention to their trainer than though 
he wasn’t in existence. 


176 


Phil Ends the Battle. 


Every cut of his whip made them roar with rage, but it 
looked exactly as if they were blaming each other. 

As they struck each other with their trunks, they 
crowded closer and closer to the ropes, for Josephine be- 
ing so much bigger, was able to push her opponent be- 
fore her. 

Finally the hind quarters of the first elephant touched 
the rope around the ring, and at that instant a scream of 
fear went up from a dozen women. 

It was time for something to be done, and the audience 
knew it at last. They had suddenly become aware of the 
dangerous situation. 

Another minute and there would be a panic, for dozens 
of women were already standing up in their seats ready to 
made a break for the door and trample all over each 
other. 

At that moment Phil darted into the ring. He had 
thrown off. his coat, but he was still calm and smiling. 

“Keep your seats, ladies, please !” he shouted at the top 
of his lungs. “Just sit still a minute and see me end this 
battle !” 

He had to say something, no matter what it was, and 
now he knew that he had to make good his statement. 

Every eye in the house was turned upon him, and there 
was a murmur of admiration at his fearless bearing. 

Snatching a prod from one of the men, he sprang at the 
two elephants, getting exactly in front of Josephine, where 
he was likely to be struck and killed by her trunk at any 
minute. 

As he stood almost under the upraised trunks of the two 


Phil Ends the Battle. 


177 

maddened brutes, he began plying his prod in a vigorous 
manner. 

Then his voice rang out like a trumpet blast as he cried : 

“Back, Josephine ! Back, I say ! Go to your quarters ! 
Back ! Back this minute !” 

The great brute seemed to recognize the voice of a mas- 
ter, and with a sullen roar she let go of her opponent. As 
the two great trunks descended they cleared Phil’s head 
by about an inch on each side, but by some miracle of 
chance he remained uninjured. 

Smith, the trainer, seemed to come to his senses now, 
and began applying his whip to the other animal, while 
our hero actually backed Josephine across the tent to her 
quarters. 

The roar of applause was simply deafening, and as 
the trainer now led the second elephant away they 
screamed themselves hoarse calling for Rushington. 

In less than a minute Phil was back in the ring, pulling 
on his coat and smiling as gayly as ever. 

His face was pale, but he was perfectly calm. He 
knew that he must be to keep their confidence in him. 

“A royal battle and a great finish !” cried a voice in the 
crowd. “Mr. Rushington is a wonder, he can lick an 
elephant !” 

“He whipped two that time !” cried out some one else. 
“I’d like to see the beast that that wonder cannot handle !” 

Phil smiled a little to hear himself called a “wonder.” 

“Ladies and gentlemen !” shouted the ringmaster again, 
“you have just seen a spectacle that has never been rivaled 
in the history of a circus, but now if you will please take 


Phil Ends the Battle. 


178 

your seats and be perfectly quiet, Mr. Rushington himself 
will make an announcement !” 

This request was necessary after the recent excitement, 
for both men and women were so excited that many of 
them were still standing on the seats talking and laughing 
hysterically. In an instant they all sat down obediently. 
If Mr. Rushington had anything to say they wanted to 
hear it. 

Our hero sprang upon one of the big tubs that were 
standing in the ring, but it was a minute or two before he 
could speak owing to the applause that followed. 

He looked so young and yet so brave that the crowd 
who had just witnessed his courage could not control its 
feelings. 

Finally Phil raised his hand, and at that signal there was 
silence. You could have heard a pin drop in the tent in 
less than a minute. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” began the young showman, in 
his fine, ringing voice, “I am sure you will be delighted 
to learn that the show is about to have a new attraction ! 
You doubtless all remember Mr. P. T. Barnum, the great 
showman, and to remember this wonderful man is to re- 
member his famous What-is-it.’ ” 

There was a tremendous roar of laughter, and Phil 
had to stop until it was over. This allusion to the “What- 
is-it” had tickled them immensely. 

“Now, I don’t profess to be a wonderful showman yet,” 
began Phil again, “for I am only a beginner !” 

Once more he had to stop, for his admirers began yell- 
ing at him : 


Phil Ends the Battle. 


179 


“You are all right, just the same!” 

“You’ll beat Barnum yet!” 

“Barnum never licked two elephants, and half of his 
show was a humbug!” 

These were some of the numerous things that were 
shouted at him, but after a minute Phil smiled and raised 
his hand for silence. 

“Well, I’m going to beat Barnum all hollow!” he 
shouted ; “I’m going to have a ‘What-is-it’ that is second 
to none — he’ll be a Freak from Freakville, and don’t you 
forget it ! So come to-night, friends, and keep your eyes 
on the ring! I am having a cage made to keep my pet 
in, and if you don’t say he is a dandy and a genuine 
‘What-is-it,’ you can go to the ticket office and get back 
your money !” 

As he stopped speaking there was another round of 
applause, then a gentleman in the rear stood up and an- 
swered him. 

“Your show is all right as it is, but we’ll come and see 
the new attraction just the same, Mr. Rushington.” 

“He’ll be on deck this evening — that is, if he don’t get 
away before that time,” retorted Phil. “We’ve got all our 
extra men looking after him now, and let me say again, 
he’s the greatest beast on record! Why, he’s a better 
scrapper than your old-time prize fighters, and to-night he 
stands ready to meet all comers !” 

The roar that followed fairly shook the tent. 

Phil had succeeded in arousing a deep curiosity in re- 
gard to the new attraction. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


A FIGHT WITH THE TRAINER. 

The moment the big tent was empty Phil Rushington 
started back to the elephant’s quarters to look for the 
trainer. He was thoroughly angry over the fellow’s ac- 
tions, for it certainly was recklessness, if not deliberate 
malice. If he had stopped the battle at the right time 
there would have been no trouble, but for some reason or 
other he had let them go too far, and the result came 
very near being disastrous. 

It was hard for our hero to believe that the man had 
done it on purpose, although he had heard a good many 
reports of the fellow’s treachery. 

It had been Phil’s luck to have a great deal of trouble 
with his trainers, and the present indications were that he 
would have more in future. 

When he first bought the show he had a bad man to 
deal with, a fellow by the name of Gabe Wagner, who 
was not only unreliable, but vicious. 

This fellow, Smith, reminded him of Gabe — he had the 
same surly disposition, and the same disloyalty to his em- 
ployer. More than once he had gone contrary to Rush- 
ington’s orders, and he had been warned that such con- 
duct would not be endured much longer. 

Now, as Phil hunted him up, he had thoroughly de- 
cided to discharge him, but, of course, he could not do so 
until he could secure a new trainer. While he was look- 


A Fight With the Trainer. iSi 

ing for Smith, Walt came running up to him. He was 
out of breath and greatly excited. 

“A word with you, old fellow,” he said in Rushington’s 
ear. 

Phil turned at once and stared at him questioningly. 

“You are going to find fault with Smith,” said Walt, 
quickly; “take my advice, Rush, and don’t say a word 
to him !” 

“Why not?” asked Phil, sternly. “Don’t he deserve it, 
I’d like to know? Didn’t he endanger the lives of per- 
haps hundreds of people, besides forcing me to jump in 
and do his work for him ?” 

“Nevertheless, I wouldn’t say a word to him to-day,” 
reiterated Walt, eagerly. “I can’t tell you why just now, 
old fellow, but you can take my word for it, there’s a 
mighty good reason.” 

“Well, I’ve got to know what it is before I promise to 
say nothing,” was the young showman’s firm answer. 
“I’m not going to have the lives of my patrons jeopardized 
or my own, either, for that matter, by any man’s care- 
lessness !” 

“You are awfully stubborn, Rush!” said Arkwright, 
gloomily. “You’ll never take my advice nor trust me, 
either.” 

“Break away !” cried Phil, laughing. “Why, I let you 
boss me unmercifully, and as for trusting you, Walt, why, 
I’d take your word against any man in creation !” 

“Or any woman?” asked Arkwright, quickly. “Would 
you believe me in preference to Mamie or Isabel or Zara ?” 

Rush laughed again, but he answered, promptly: 


182 


A Figlit With the Trainer. 

“You are all as true as steel, so what is the use of such 
a foolish question? Come, Walt, tell me why I must not 
speak to Smith at once. Would he leave me in the lurch? 
Is that what you are afraid of?” 

•“He’d do that all right,” was Walt’s low answer, then 
he looked at Phil sharply, as he added, “but that ain’t the 
worst of it, he’d take Zara with him.” 

Phil stopped as short as though he had been shot, and 
his face fairly blazed with anger in a moment. 

“Nonsense! You are going too far, Walt,” he said, 
between his teeth. “Why is it you are always insisting 
that she is in love with that fellow?” 

Walt shrugged his shoulders and looked away. 

“All right ! I’ll keep my mouth shut after this. What’s 
the use telling you anything if you are going to get so 
hot over it? Go on and settle your man, Rush, and take 
the consequences.” 

“Exactly what I intend to do. I’ll not have a reckless 
man in this circus, Walt. I’m not taking any chances 
with the lives of my patrons.” 

“Well, you took a big one with your own when you 
parted those two elephants,” said Walt, admiringly, “still 
I can’t help wishing that you would think it over before 
you speak to Smith about his carelessness.” 

He turned away as he spoke, and left Phil looking after 
him. There was something he longed to tell him, but he 
did not quite dare to. 

If he could have proved his assertions he would not 
have hesitated a minute, but he knew Phil well enough to 


A Fight With the Trainer. 183 

know that he would only laugh at his news, and throw it 
aside as a bit of idle gossip. 

“He’s a queer fellow,” he muttered. “He won’t be- 
lieve a thing against any one until it is proven, and, as a 
rule, he won’t give a fellow a chance to even collect his 
evidence.” 

He did not dream that our hero was already thinking 
over his words and almost ready to act upon his sug- 
gestion. 

But Phil had learned by experience that Walt was not 
often wrong, and that he rarely hinted at danger unless it 
was actually coming. 

Pie realized that he had been somewhat hasty with 
Walt, but that allusion to Zara had riled him terribly. 

He tried now to act wisely if possible in the matter, but 
turn as he might, in his mind, he could arrive at but one 
conclusion. 

The people would expect to see the elephant fight again 
at the evening performance, and he was sure that neither 
animal would be in the mood to go through it safely un- 
less they were held in check by a competent trainer. 

As for Zara, she was at present one of the star attrac- 
tions. If it was really true, what Walt had hinted, it 
would certainly be wise for him to move carefully. 

Phil was greatly surprised to find how his friend’s hint 
had hurt him. He was awfully proud of his little trapeze 
performer, but not until this minute did he learn how he 
was growing to like her. 

Just at that moment in his reflections he caught sight 
of the elephant trainer. He was standing with Gray, 


184 A Fight With the Trainer. 

the ringmaster, by the side of one of the elephants. Phil 
walked quietly up to them, but neither of the men saw 
him. They were engaged in a very absorbing conver- 
sation. 

“That’s exactly what I want,” Phil heard Smith say, 
angrily, “I want the public to think that he is taking 
chances with their lives in order to show off his own skill 
and courage with the animals.” 

“Well, I guess some of them thought so to-day, all 
right,” was the answer; “still they don’t object to a sus- 
picion of danger if no bad results follow.” 

“Still the reputation will hurt him,” said Smith again, 
“and what is more, I mean that there shall be some bad 
results. I shall give them something more than a scare 
this evening, for the blame of everything goes on the 
proprietor’s shoulders.” 

“You’ve got it in for him, all right,” said the ring- 
master, laughing. “I confess I’m sore on the kid myself, 
but it’s plain to be seen that you hate him, Charlie.” 

“It’s an old grudge, for one thing,” muttered the fellow, 
sullenly ; “then, there’s the girl, Zara, he’s always making 
eyes at her.” 

As he said the last word, Rush walked up and con- 
fronted them. 

“So you are planning to ruin my reputation in the show 
business, are you?” asked Phil, looking them both squarely 
in the face. “And in order to do so you are willing to 
risk the lives of hundreds of innocent people ! Well, do 
you wish to know what I think of men like you ? I think 


A Fight Witli the Trainer. 185 

you are the lowest creatures on earth ! You are a couple 
of cowards !” 

“Hold on, Rushington !” cried Gray, with an angry 
gesture. “Don’t you dare call me names, or I’ll make 
you regret it! The idea of a youngster like you trying 
to run a show, anyway!” 

Both men were facing him in a threatening manner, 
and the look on their faces showed that they were terribly 
in earnest. 

“Well, I’ll show you whether I can run a show or 
not!” said Phil, straightening up to his full height. “I 
discharge you both this minute, and I’ll give you five min- 
utes to clear out ! If I catch you near the tents again I’ll 
have the two of you arrested !” 

“You will, will you!” cried Smith, aiming a blow at 
Phil, which did not reach him. 

The next second Phil “swung his right” on the trainer’s 
jaw, and the fellow went down in a heap as if a cyclone 
had struck him. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


IN AN ELEPHANT’S TRUNK. 

In a second the ringmaster had sprung at the young 
showman, aiming a blow at his head which would have 
done some damage if it had hit him. 

Phil sprang aside, and then let fly with his left, but Gray 
was as quick as he was, and managed to dodge it. 

From that second they went at it “hammer and tongs,” 
both striking out and dodging in a scientific manner. 

Our hero was a splendid match for the fellow, although 
only half his age, and he would probably have handled 
him all right if by a quick roll of the eyes he had not seen 
Smith recovering. 

In a minute more he would have two to fight instead 
of one, and there was not so much as a keeper on hand to 
help him. 

Still, the idea of giving it up did not once enter his 
head. He would have stayed in the fight if there had 
been a dozen. 

He set his teeth hard and delivered a magnificent 
“uppercut,” which sent his opponent flying over into the 
hay, right between the elephants. Then he turned to 
Smith, but he was a second too late. 

The heavy fist of the trainer struck him squarely be- 
tween the eyes and he went down heavily, seeing every 
star in the firmament. 

The next minute Walt Arkwright came flying through 


In an Elephant’s Trunk. 187 

the tent. As he saw the blow delivered he flew at Smith 
like a tiger. 

In less than a minute he delivered a “knockout” blow 
exactly over that famous collection of nerves known as 
the “solar plexus.” As Smith went down in the dirt 
Walt rushed directly to his friend. 

Phil was recovering slowly, and Walt ran for some 
water. 

As soon as he could he arose to his feet, but his enemies 
were still senseless ; they weren’t even groaning. 

“I hope we haven’t knocked them out entirely,” said our 
hero, a little anxiously. 

“Well, I wouldn’t much care if we had,” muttered 
Walt. “I could have killed him without compunction 
when I saw him strike you that cowardly blow !” 

“Oh, but he was only getting back at me. I knocked 
him down first,” laughed Phil, as he went over and looked 
at this fallen enemy. 

Gray was beginning to groan now, and he soon opened 
his eyes. When he saw himself almost under Josephine’s 
feet he gave a howl of terror. 

“Let him get out the best way he can,” whispered Walt 
to Phil, “and as quick as he is out give him his ‘walking 
papers !’ ” 

“I’ve done that already,” was Phil’s reply, “but do look 
at Josephine !” 

As Gray tried to rise to his feet the elephant moved her 
big body a little, trying to swing around enough to get a 
look at him. 


1 88 In an Elephant’s Trunk. 

“Objects to his company, and I don’t blame her,” whis- 
pered Walt again. 

She was fuming with rage, and trumpeting almost con- 
stantly. 

“She’ll kill him!” cried Phil, taking a step nearer to 
the beast. 

Walt caught him by the arm, and held him firmly. 

“Wait ! She won’t hurt him a bit, and it will do him 
good! I’ll give him a scare that he won’t forget in a 
hurry !” 

Smith was beginning to squirm now, and Walt turned 
around to look at him, and just at that second Josephine 
trumpeted furiously. 

“Quick! Crawl under her body!” yelled Phil to Gray, 
as he saw the great trunk reaching slowly around for 
him. 

Gray tried to do it, but he was still bewildered from 
the blow he had received. 

Before he could drop flat on the ground the great trunk 
had caught him. 

With a fearful yell, he began kicking and squirming, 
which only enraged the monstrous animal. 

She was sure now that she had a dangerous enemy in 
her grasp, so she tightened her grip and began whirling 
him around in a circle, at the same time almost crushing 
the breath out of his body. 

But Phil was not idle while all this was going on. 

Seizing a pitchfork that was lying near he began 
prodding the beast while he called to her commandingly. 

“Drop him, Josephine ! Drop him ! Gently, old girl !” 


In an Elephant's Trunk. 


189 


The elephant was not so angry but that she heeded his 
voice, for as usual, she recognized it as belonging to her 
master, and besides, the pitchfork thrusts were not veiy 
pleasant, for Phil was so alarmed that he prodded un- 
mercifully. 

There was a pile of soft hay in the corner about twenty 
feet away, and with a last whirl of her trunk, Josephine 
flung her victim toward it. 

Smith had opened his eyes on a curious sight. He was 
just in time to see his friend’s heels near the roof of the 
tent, and the next thing was his body flying through space 
as Josephine let go of him. 

He did not say a word as he arose slowly to his feet, 
but there was a look on his face that boded no good to 
Phil Rushington. 

Meanwhile Gray had slid down from the hay and was 
trying to stand erect. He was as white as a ghost, and 
his limbs trembled terribly. 

“Now get out, you two,” said the young showman, giv- 
ing Smith a shove. “And remember if I see you around 
the tent again I’ll have you arrested as suspicious char- 
acters !” 

“And we won’t forget you,” muttered Gray, who was 
really not badly hurt. “You will hear from us again, both 
you and your friend, for remember there is more than one 
way to skin a rabbit.” 

“So I’ve been told,” said Phil, dryly, “but I’ll be ready 
for you at any time or place, and I’ll try to oblige you if 
you are looking for trouble.” 


190 In an Elephant’s Trunk. 

With a parting scowl, both men left the tent, while 
Phil went to the pump and bathed his face in cool water. 
“I mustn’t look as if I’d been fighting,” he said, with a 
laugh. “If my face is black and blue, I’ll get the laugh 
this evening.” 

“You might borrow some of the clown’s powder,” said 
Walt, as he watched the men slouching off, “but I’m glad 
to see the last of those miserable ruffians.” 

Our hero could not answer then, for he was splashing 
in the water, but he knew well that he had not seen the 
last of the two vindictive fellows. 

He was now in a fix that worried him considerably. 
He was short-handed to an extent that crippled him 
terribly. 

“Well, we are in it for fair now,” said Walt, who 
seemed to know what he was thinking. “We are shy a 
ringmaster and a trainer, and I expect to hear very soon 
that Zara has followed.” 

Phil turned on him sharply as he mentioned the girl. 

“I can’t believe that you are right,” he said, “for why 
should she go just because Smith has gone?” 

“He’s in love with her, P.ush, if I must tell you,” said 
his friend ; “why, a dozen times this week, I’ve seen them 
whispering together.” 

“It doesn’t seem possible,” was Phil’s only response. 
He was thinking deeply, and there was a scowl on his 
features. 

“Well, we’ve got to face it, old man,” went on Walt, 
more cheerfully. “There’s a performance at eight this 


In an Elephant’s Trunk. 191 

evening, whatever happens. This is the sort of thing that 
will test your ability as a showman.” 

“I know it,” said Phil, slowly, “and I confess that I am 
staggered, but one thing is certain, Zara must not go back 
on us ! It would be a severe loss if she went, for she’s 
one of the brightest stars in the firmament of this par- 
ticular circus.” 

“Tie her down,” suggested Walt, in a curious voice. 
“Anchor her — lock her in a cage — anything at all to keep 
her !” 

“I hardly think that will be necessary,” said Phil, with 
all his faith in the girl coming back. “I don’t believe I 
am mistaken ! Zara has no notion of bolting !” 

But there was no time to think about this now, for he 
had something to do that was more important. 

It was the first chance he had had to tell Walt that 
the boxing kangaroo was really coming, and for the next 
ten minutes he was busy giving instructions for its re- 
ception. 

“I’m going to keep the audience guessing for a few 
minutes to-night,” he said, as he finished telling Walt his 
plans. “If I can’t have a ‘What Is It’ I’ll have the next 
thing to it. I’ll have a novelty, and that’s what the crowd 
is after!” 

“Oh, we’ll get on first rate, Rush, no doubt about it,” 
said Walt, cheerfully. “We are minus two reprobates, 
and that’s a blessing. We’ll have to hustle a little, but 
that doesn’t matter.” 

“I’ll never forget how Gray looked in the elephant’s 


192 In an Elephant’s Trunk. 

trunk,” said our hero, with a grin. “I couldn’t have se- 
lected a better punishment for him !” 

“We’ll keep Josephine on hand to help us out,” was 
Walt’s answer, “for the way she spun him around was a 
sight worth seeing!” 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


IN THE TENT. 

Halfway across the big tent Phil and his chum parted, 
but not until they had done a little more planning in regard 
to the “What-is-it.” 

As our hero was examining the props under the raised 
platform, Mamie came running across from her canvas 
dressing-room. 

“Whist! Is it yerself at last, Rushy?” she began, in a 
low voice. “Sure what’s after happening to ye, Rushy, 
dear? Ye are that pale I don’t know you.” 

“A little scrap with Smith, the trainer,” said Phil, with 
a smile. “I discharged him, and he rebelled. But what’s 
the matter, Mamie?” 

“Ye dischar-r-ged Mr. Smith, Rushy?” asked Mamie, 
with a special roll of the tongue, which she always used 
when she was angry or excited. “Sure it’s r-raving 
cr-razy ye are, Rushy ! Why, what’s to be done this 
evening ?” 

“Oh, I can handle the beasts for one night, I guess,” 
said the young showman, laughing. “They obeyed me 
all right this afternoon, and I fancy I’ll be lucky enough 
to get through the evening. Of course, I’ll have a cou- 
ple of extra men, and some prods around handy, and if 
worse comes to worst, we can use our revolvers. Can’t 
afford to take any chances with the lives of our patrons, 


194 


In the Tent. 


you know. Why, I was so worried this afternoon that I 
almost went gray-headed !” 

“Worried, was it !” shouted Mamie, with a shriek of 
laughter. “Why, Rushy, darlin’, ye bullied the poor baste 
to walkin’ backwards to her quarters ! Arrah ! ’Twas a 
sight for Saint Patrick, as me friend Shakespeare would 
say it.” 

“The ‘gallery gods,’ you mean, Mamie. But are you 
dead sure that it was Shakespeare who said it?” 

“Faith, me mimery is poor,” said Mamie, grinning; 
then all of a sudden her face grew sober. “Rushy,” she 
whispered, mysteriously, “the baste did it on pur-r-pose! 
He’s your inemy, that Smith, if ye ever had one, Rushy. 
Faith it made me turn sick to see his reckless doin’s !” 

“Well, it gave everybody a scare for a while,” said Phil, 
“but that is why he did it. He wanted to ruin my reputa- 
tion by showing the people that I took risks with my ani- 
mals and that it wasn’t safe for them to come to the per- 
formance. However, I guess he has done me no damage, 
for I not only showed the people that I could control the 
elephants, but I kicked him out of the circus. I’ll get a new 
trainer as soon as I can, and in the meantime I’ll be 
cautious.” 

“What’s he got against ye, Rushy?” asked the little 
Irish girl, as he stopped speaking. 

“I’m blest if I know! I’ve treated him all right. I 
heard him say it was an old grudge, but I don’t remember 
ever having seen him before. Oh, I guess he’s just talk- 
ing through his hat ! There’s probably nothing the matter 
with him but a nasty disposition.” 


In the Tent. 


195 


Our hero was about to walk away, for he was in a ter- 
rible hurry, but Mamie stepped up to him closer and 
lowered her voice a little. 

“Have ye seen Zar-r-a since he lift, Rushy ?” 

“Not yet. Why, Mamie?” 

“I’ll not be after tellin’ ye!” was the little dancer’s 
mysterious answer. 

“See here, Mamie ! You are my friend ! Tell me, is 
it true that Zara was in love with Smith? Arkwright 
says she is, but it doesn’t seem possible !” 

“Faith an’ did ye think it was yerself that she was in 
love with then, Rushy? Wurra, wurra, me b’y, it’s a 
great consate ye are after gittin’ ! Ye can’t have all the 
darlints.” 

“Re serious, Mamie, please,” said Phil, with a frown. 
“Don’t you see what a fix I am in? If she is in love with 
him ten to one she’ll throw me down for spite. I don’t 
want to believe it, but of course the thing is possible.” 

“Listen, Rushy,” said the girl, coming close to his side. 
“Sure, it’s nobody’s sacrets that I do be telling, but it’s the 
talk of the tent that the two' were lovers, but it’s the fool 
ye will be if ye don’t clip her wings, and it’ll be aisy for ye, 
Rushy, for yours is the winnin’ eye, an’ no foine loidy 
could resist the smile of ye !” 

“Then you think I had better speak to her, do you?” 
asked Phil, laughing. 

“Sure, it’s not the loikes of ye that’ll object to that, 
Rushy! Spake to her by all means, and be quick about 
it! Sure if the be-oo-tiful Zar-r-a is after givin’ ye the 
go-by the show will be quared foriver and iver!” 


196 


In the Tent. 


There was a mock gravity in her manner that did not 
deceive Phil. He knew perfectly well that both Isabel 
and Mamie were a little jealous of Zara. 

“Nonsense, Mamie !” he laughed, as he pinched her red 
cheeks. “The Mossman & Rushington combination 
would still be a ‘go’ if there were only two* people in the 
whole show — one the daring Isabel and the other the in- 
comparable Mamie !” 

“To the ould b’y wid yer compliments!” cried the girl, 
as she danced away. “Sure it’s Mamie Meagen who 
knows best what she can do ! It’s not the swelled head 
that can fly away with the good sinse av yours truly !” 

She danced away as light as a fairy, leaving Phil think- 
ing deeply over her wise suggestion. 

It was certain that Mamie’s jealousy did not interfere 
with her good sense, for she had advised him to do his best 
to keep Zara with them. 

“The dear girl is as loyal as she is pert,” he thought, 
laughing, and just at that moment he caught sight of 
Zara, who had just left the dressing-tent and was carry- 
ing a parcel. 

“That looks suspicious,” was the young showman’s 
first thought, but he walked straight up to her just as 
though he did not suspect her. 

Phil was unusually pleasant when he called her name, 
but he was disappointed to see that she looked confused 
and startled. 

She did not run to meet him as usual, only stopped and 
waited until he came up to her, at the same time hanging 
her head like a culprit. 


In the Tent. 


197 


‘'You did beautifully this afternoon, Zara,” began Phil, 
with one of his tenderest glances. “It doesn’t seem to 
me you ever did so well before, and you never could look 
more graceful and charming.” 

A delicate rose hue swept over the young girl’s face, 
making her rounded cheeks more like peaches than ever. 

“You are good to say so, Mr. Rushington,” she began, 
and then, greatly to Phil’s surprise, she burst out crying. 

“Don’t hesitate to tell me what is wrong, Zara,” he went 
on, eagerly, “for you must know, little girl, that I am much 
interested in you.” 

“Oh, I can’t tell you, Mr. Rushington ! Indeed I 
can’t !” she sobbed. “And, oh, I am so sorry, but I have 
got to leave you !” 

Phil did not reply for a second. 

“You must not leave me, Zara,” he said, very gently. 
“Promise me that you will not even dream of breaking 
your contract.” 

“It will be taking my life in my hands almost to promise 
that, Mr. Rushington,” said the girl, with a sigh. 

“But if I swear that I will protect you against your 
enemies?” urged Phil. “And I will do that gladly, Zara; 
so long as you are with me no harm shall come to you.” 

“Then I will gladly stay with you!” cried the girl, 
impulsively. 

A moment later she was running back to her dressing- 
room, and Phil was on his way to look after the new at- 
traction which he was pretty sure had just arrived from 
the station. 


198 


In the Tent. 


As soon as he was gone Isabel Currier stepped from 
behind the rows of seats. 

She had entered the tent just in time to see the parting, 
but of course she had not heard a word that had been 
spoken. 

“So it is neither Dora Warren nor myself that he cares 
for,” she whispered, angrily. “It’s the latest attraction — 
Zara — the trapeze performer!” 


CHAPTER XXV. 


THE NEW RINGMASTER. 

For the next two hours neither Phil nor Walt was seen 
around the tents, for they were searching all over the little 
town on a mysterious errand. 

Fortunately on his stroll along Main Street Phil met a 
fellow that he knew. His name was Bert Philips, and he 
was a very bright, clever fellow. 

“Hello, old chap! What are you doing here?” ex- 
claimed Philips, when he first caught sight of him, then, 
all of a sudden, he burst out laughing. “By Jove ! Is it 
possible that you are the Rushington that owns the circus ! 
Well, of all things ! To think that a youngster like you 
should be a full-fledged showman !” 

“Well, to tell you the truth, Pm not exactly a howling 
success in the business,” said our hero, honestly, “for in- 
stead of my running a show, the show is running me! 

I own it all right, but it is fast driving me crazy ! You 
don’t happen to know a place where they keep ring- 
masters on tap, do you, old fellow? I want one in a 
hurry, but I guess I am 'likely to take it out in wanting !” 

“What’s the matter with me ?” asked Philips, laughing. 
“I’m out of a job, and I can crack a whip with the best 
of them!” 

“And a joke, too, if I remember rightly,” said Phil, , 
slapping him on the shoulder, “but is that straight, old 
man ? Are you really looking for work ? If you are you 


200 


The New Ringmaster. 

can consider yourself engaged for one evening, anyway! 
Name your salary, and remember I pay extra for favors !” 

“Oh, I’ll do it to oblige a friend,” said Philips, good- 
naturedly. “So you are really short-handed, and need 
my services!” 

Phil told him what had happened in the elephant’s 
quarters, and when he described Josephine’s part in the 
affair Philips became greatly interested. 

“Well, I’d rather be excused when she comes into the 
ring! Just count me out on that, please, Rushington! 
I can manage horses and camels, but I draw the line at 
elephants !” 

“Oh, I can manage them for one night, I guess, and 
I’ve already wired for another trainer,” said Phil, “but 
really, Philips, you must let me pay you for your services 
— you mustn’t think I would impose upon an old ac- 
quaintance !” 

“All right, then, we’ll call it five dollars,” said Philips. 
“I’m deucedly hard up, so the V will come in handy.” 

“I’ll double it gladly,” was Rushington’s answer, “for 
it has taken a load off my mind, I can tell you !” 

Our hero had several errands to do, so the two friends 
parted, and Philips made his way to the circus grounds, 
where he found the ticket agent and the advertising 
man keeping guard at the entrance. 

Phil had told them of the fight with Smith and Gray, 
and warned them to be on the lookout, and the men both 
promised that if they were seen on the premises they 
would get a hot reception. When Philips told them he 
had been engaged as ringmaster for the evening they 


201 


The New Ringmaster. 

eyed him suspiciously. They were inclined to believe that 
he was a spy on the premises. 

When Walt came back to the tent he, too, looked at 
Philips with an unfriendly eye, but the young fellow was 
game; he still waited for Rushington. As Walt entered 
the big tent he winked at Mr. Brown, the advertising 
agent. 

“I see you’ve got your posters up all right, and a good 
job, too, Bill, only that description of the ‘What-is-it’ 
don’t just tally with the original!” 

The advertising man grinned and shrugged his 
shoulders. 

“I can manage it to-morrow, after I see the beast,” he 
said, laughing; “but for goodness’ sake, Arkwright, see 
that the cage is strong! I understand that the critter is 
liable to eat women and children!” 

“Oh, we pulled his teeth all out when we caught him,” 
said Walt, soberly. “We are not taking any risks with 
the lives of our patrons.” 

“How about the elephant fight to-day?” spoke up 
Philips. “I heard up the street that you took mighty big 
chances, and in fact that you came near creating a panic 
during the afternoon performance!” 

“Ha ! ha ! I thought he was a spy !” whispered Brown 
to Walt. “Gray and Smith have been spreading that 
story already.” 

“Nonsense! There was never a minute of real dan- 
ger,” said Walt, sharply. “Whoever trumped up that 
story could not have been in the tent ! As if Mr. Rush- 
ington would ever allow his men to be reckless !” 


202 


The New Ringmaster. 


“Nevertheless, they were, and he discharged them,” 
said Philips, stoutly. “He was a little angry at the way 
they had treated him.” 

‘Til lick the man that says Mr. Rushington is reckless 
with the lives of his patrons !” said Arkwright, dropping 
his bundles. “That’s the best way I know to put a stop 
to such lying rumors !” 

He had walked up to Philips with a defiant air, and the 
other two men stood ready to help him. 

Philips grinned, but he did not budge an inch. He 
was as good a friend as Phil had in the world, and it 
made him laugh at this peculiar situation. 

Just as it began to look as if he would have to fight, 
our hero came in sight, also carrying a bundle. 

“Here’s the boss !” cried Brown, as he caught sight of 
our hero. “Hold on a minute, Arkwright, and see what 
he wants done with the fellow !” 

As Phil came in he stopped and stared in astonish- 
ment, for Arkwright had pulled his coat half ofT and was 
fairly glaring at Philips. 

“Hello! What’s going on?” he began, and then burst 
out laughing. In less than a second he understood the 
situation. 

Going straight up to Philips, he put his hand on his 
shoulder. 

“This is our new ringmaster for to-night, and my old 
friend, boys! Were you suspicious of him, Walt? You 
look as if you could eat him !” 

Arkwright pulled on his coat, looking a trifle uncom- 
fortable. 


203 


The New Ringmaster. 

“He said we endangered the lives of our patrons with 
that elephant fight this afternoon,” he began, but Phil in- 
terrupted him. 

“And you threatened to lick him ! Much obliged, old 
man? It only goes to show what a good friend you are 
to me — but as it happens, I’m to blame, for I told that 
to Philips myself. He’s our friend, you see, boys — we 
can all of us trust him !” 

There was a general handshaking, and then every 
one laughed. 

“You are lucky to have such faithful allies, Phil,” said 
Philips. “Why, I give you my word they watched me as 
though I was a pickpocket !” 

“Well, I need faithful allies just now,” answered the 
young circus owner. Then he excused himself to the 
others and followed his chum into the tent. 

There was a little side tent that opened into the big 
one, and into this they carried their queer-looking bundles. 

“Now you stand guard while I take an inventory of 
stock,” said Phil, as he began opening the bundles. 

“I hope they’ll fit,” laughed Walt, as he looked on inter- 
estedly. “I got the largest coat I could find. Bought it 
of a strapping Irishman, and whew, didn’t he soak me for 
the precious old garment !” 

“I don’t believe the kangaroo is conceited even if he is 
a champion prize fighter,” said Phil, laughing. “I’ve 
never heard of his bragging about what he can do, and 
in that respect he’s an improvement on most of the gen- 
tlemen in his profession.” 

“Get on to the dicer!” roared Walt, as he happened 


204 


The New Ringmaster. 


to catch sight of the contents of one of Phil’s bundles. 
“I say, old man, won’t that queer the fight? There’s no 
allowance for plug hats in the Marquis of Queensberry 
rules ! Ten to one the clown will claim a foul if that thing 
ever falls on him !” 

“Let him claim,” laughed Phil. “We can get back at 
him all right. He’s wearing a pillow over his solar 
plexus. Besides, Pm to be the referee of this fight, and 
when one pugilist has to box with his feet it’s no more 
than fair that we should handicap the other.” 

Walt shook with laughter as he began to imagine what 
the kangaroo would look like, for of course it was de- 
cided that the new attraction was to be the “What-is-it.” 

It was a little scheme of Phil’s to get the people to 
guessing in order to make the event a little more of a 
novelty. 

They finally got everything ready, and then Walt went 
for one of the keepers, and Phil gave him some secret or- 
ders that made the fellow roar with laughter. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

Isabel’s queer actions. 

Philips was practicing in the ring when Phil next en- 
tered the big tent, and Isabel and one of the keepers were 
coaching him. 

Our hero watched a minute and saw that the new 
ringmaster was doing finely. He was cracking his whip 
like a veteran in the business. 

Bert Wister was looking on and he winked impudently 
as Phil passed. “Some t’ings is a gift, boss,” he said, 
with hardly a movement of his head. “Dat feller’s er A 
Number One, no mistake. Been er lifetime, too, widout 
knowin’ his callin’.” 

Phil laughed, but hurried on across the tent, and a 
moment later Isabel ran up to him. 

Of course, the young showman did not dream that his 
star rider had seen him with Zara, so when he stopped to 
speak to her he smiled as pleasantly as ever. 

“Why, Isabel! What is the matter?” he cried, as he 
saw her plainer. “You are as pale as a ghost ! Are you 
nervous for fear that Philips will ‘queer’ you this 
evening ?” 

“Philips is all right. It isn’t that,” said the girl, 
shortly, “but, Mr. Rushington, why have you discharged 
Mr. Smith? Do you think it is safe for you to handle 
the elephants?” 

Phil looked at her sharply and understood her paleness 


206 


Isabel’s Queer Actions. 

at last. The loyal girl was worrying for fear something 
would happen to him. 

“He was treacherous ! He wanted to ruin my reputa- 
tion,” exclaimed our hero. “Don’t be afraid, Isabel. I 
can manage the elephants.” 

“But why should Smith wish to injure you, Rush?” 
asked the girl. “Have you wronged him in any way? 
Have you been making too much of Zara ?” 

The question was so abrupt that it startled our hero a 
little, and Isabel was staring at him so intently that he felt 
very uncomfortable. 

“Of course it’s none of my business,” went on the girl, 
bitterly. “If she bewitched you, but is it right to dis- 
charge a man just because he is jealous of you?” 

“Nonsense, Isabel !” said Phil, impatiently. “My treat- 
ment of Zara has nothing to do with the case. I dis- 
charged the fellow because he was tricky.” 

“And was Gray tricky, too?” asked Isabel, more mildly. 

“Gray was a friend of Smith’s,” said the young show- 
man, promptly, “and I had my reasons for being sus- 
picious.” 

“Suspicious of what?” asked the girl, persistently. 

“Well, for one thing, I was suspicious that he would 
knock me down if I did not hit him first,” said Phil, smil- 
ing, “and that is a suspicion that no self-respecting man 
will harbor.” 

The girl looked at him sharply, and her manner changed 
in an instant. It was the first time she had noticed that 
there was a bad bruise on his forehead. 


Isabel’s Queer Actions. 207 

“He surely did not do that?” she gasped, pointing at 
the bruise. 

“He surely tried to and failed,” said Phil, scowling, 
“but his friend, Mr. Smith, accomplished the feat suc- 
cessfully.” 

“They struck you ! Did they dare ?” cried the girl, with 
all her old tenderness coming back, for was he not her 
dear friend still in spite of forty Zaras? 

“Ask Walt when you see him, or Josephine,” laughed 
Phil. “They were both witnesses to the affair, and both 
took a hand in the scrimmage.” 

He was obliged to leave her and go back to his work, 
but the look of affection in her face haunted him for a 
while and he soon found himself comparing her with 
Zara. 

It was now nearly eight o’clock, and everything was in 
readiness. 

Phil had ordered the new attraction put in a special 
cage* and over it he had spread a large piece of canvas. 
This cage was a gorgeous, gilt affair on wheels, and our 
hero had decided to have one of the elephants draw it 
into the ring at the proper moment with the new attrac- 
tion in it. 

Both he and Walt were on hand when the crowds be- 
gan to pour in. By a quarter past eight every seat was 
taken. 

The news of the “battle royal” and the fight in the 
elephants’ quarters had spread like wildfire, and both 
proved “drawing cards” for the performance in the 
evening. 


208 Isabel’s Queer Actions. 

Besides, people wanted to see how Rushington would 
get on so short-handed, for in spite of what they had seen 
of his bravery they were inclined to be a little skeptical. 
Walt overheard a conversation that explained matters a 
little, and showed conclusively that Gray and Smith were 
already at work trying to undermine his friend’s repu- 
tation. 

“That scene with the elephants was all cooked up be- 
forehand,” said one spectator to another. “Smith, the 
trainer, that Rushington discharged to-day, says he begged 
and implored him not to do it, but the kid is stubborn. 
There can’t any one influence him.” 

“Wants to show off his own courage, I suppose,” said 
another voice, “but I for one don’t approve of such do- 
ings ! Why, if those elephants had broken loose they 
would have killed hundreds of people! Why, I feel as 
though it was almost unsafe to come here this evening.” 

“Too bad that trapeze performer has gone,” said the 
first speaker again. “It seems that the fellow, Smith, was 
her sweetheart, and he made her leave. It may be only a 
report, but I would like to have seen her.” 

“We’ll get our money’s worth, I reckon, without her,” 
said the other voice, and then they moved away so that 
Walt could not hear them. 

“That shows you what people are saying,” said Walt 
to Phil as he told him the conversation a little later ; “but 
who the mischief knew that Zara was going?” 

“Smith thought so, perhaps,” said Phil, smiling quietly. 
“However, I must discourage that feeling of fear at once, 


Isabel’s Queer Actions. 209 

Walt! I’ll explain the whole situation to our audience 
this evening.” 

“I believe I would treat it in silent contempt,” said 
Walt, thoughtfully. “Both Smith and Gray have lots of 
friends in this little town, old fellow.” 

“Barroom friends,” retorted Rush, with a sneer. 

“Well, whatever kind they may be, they have lots of 
them— too many for us to meet on a dark corner, I’m 
thinking.” 

“I’ll settle it to-night,” said Phil again. “I’ve treated 
the people squarely, now I’ll see how they will treat me! 
If they don’t believe me they can all go to blazes !” 

“And where will we go?” asked Walt, a little stupidly. 

“I believe we are booked for Springfield next,” said 
our hero, dryly, and then the band struck up, and there 
was no more time for talking. 

However the audience felt, it certainly acted all right. 
The young showman was greeted just as loudly and sin- 
cerely as ever. 

The two discharged men had not succeeded in poison- 
ing their minds yet, although there was no doubt but they 
had started an undercurrent flowing in that direction. 

It remained to be seen what had been their influence 
over Zara. 

Philips proved to be a first-rate ringmaster, but Phil 
made the announcements himself from the back of his 
magnificent high stepper. 

The first event, which was bareback riding, went off 
with its usual dash, Isabel riding superbly and taking 
her hoops and hurdles with such exquisite grace that the 


210 


Isabel’s Queer Actions. 


entire audience sat spellbound with admiration. Then 
came the male trapeze performers, with their perilous 
feats, and again the vast crowd held its breath in wonder. 

When it came Zara’s turn to appear even Phil grew 
nervous. The whole audience was calling for her. It 
would be dreadful if she disappointed them. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

PHIL IS TRICKED. 

There was almost a dead calm after the first call for 
Zara, and then some one started the rumor that the little 
trapeze performer had deserted. 

Phil ground his teeth, but tried to look composed. It 
was a terrible moment, for he had not dreamed that she 
would trick him. 

He looked eagerly toward the door of her dressing- 
tent, and many thousand eyes also turned in that direction. 

“Zara ! Zara !” They yelled at the top of their lungs. 
“Hurry up, Zara! You’re keeping the stage waiting!” 

But the moments went by, and there was no sign of 
Zara, and even the clown shook his head in a ludicrous 
manner. Suddenly some one started to hiss, and this net- 
tled Phil terribly. It had dawned on him at last that Zara 
had proved faithless. 

It was Philips, the new ringmaster, who came to his as- 
sistance just at the time when Phil was beginning to get 
“rattled.” 

Without any one seeing him he had stolen around out- 
side to the dressing-tent, and now he suddenly raised the 
flap of canvas and stood before them, while just behind 
him was a young girl who looked for all the world like 
Zara. 

Then dropping the flap, he came forward alone and 


212 Phil is Tricked. 


bounding into the ring he made the following announce- 
ment : 

“Mademoiselle Zara has just met with a slight acci- 
dent, ladies and gentlemen ! While hurrying to dress she 
has turned her ankle, and while it is not serious, it will 
prevent her performing to-night, but she promises to more 
than make up for it to-morrow !” 

Not for a single minute were his words doubted by the 
audience, and a great shout went up the moment he 
finished. 

They had all caught a brief glimpse of a young girl in 
the door of the dressing-tent, and there was not one of 
the number who did not think it was Zara. 

Of course they were bitterly disappointed, but they took 
it good-naturedly. The girl had not deserted, then, and 
they were sorry for her injury. 

The whole transaction was a mystery to our hero, but 
he kept perfectly calm, and did not show what he was 
feeling. 

It was Mamie’s turn next, and she came into the ring 
with a bound. Phil thought he had never seen her quite 
so smiling and happy. 

The crowd greeted her with applause, for Mamie was 
a great favorite, and in a second she was dancing like a 
fairy on the top of the little platform. 

Then came the clown with more of his antics, and, 
while he was jumping and tumbling, Walt suddenly van- 
ished. Burt Wister kept the ring lively for a few min- 
utes longer, for their queer specimen of humanity was 
really a very clever performer. 


Phil is Tricked. 


213 



Finally it was time to bring on the new attraction. The 
crowd evidently thought so, for there were one or two 
calls for it. Then a number of louder voices drowned 
the cry for the “What-is-it,” and the calls for the ele- 
phants had the best of it. 

“Bring on the elephants !” they yelled at the top of their 
lungs. “Bring on the big fellows and let them ‘shoot 
craps,’ and then give us a look at the ‘Battle Royal !’ ” 

Phil sprang upon the little platform where Mamie had 
done her dancing, and the minute the crowd saw him they 
redoubled their yelling. Our hero bowed right and left, 
but it was several minutes before he could speak. They 
no sooner let one round of applause die before they began 
another. 

Finally he raised his hand with a quieting gesture, 
while Philips roared at the top of his lungs : 

“Do please be silent !” 

This seemed to suffice, for the tent grew still in a 
minute, then in a ringing voice Rush began his an- 
nouncement. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, we thank you for your appre- 
ciation,” he began, “and we are proud to believe that we 
truly merit it. The disappointment to-night was unavoid- 
able. It must have happened at the last minute as my 
ringmaster says, for I assure you that not until he ex- 
plained it did I even dream of it. 

“You have called for the elephants, and you shall see 
them later, but just now I have something else ‘up my 
sleeve,’ as they say, and I wish to show you a wonderful 
creature indeed, a species of that animal that is known 


214 


Phil is Tricked. 


as the ‘What-is-it,’ only that mine will only keep you 
guessing for a minute !” 

“That’s the kind we want!” yelled some one in the 
crowd. “Bring on your riddle and see how quick we will 
solve it !” 

Just as he said the words Philips planted a huge sign 
in plain sight of every one. On it in big letters were the 
following words: 

“A Freak from Freakville, and the Champion Scrapper 
of the Universe!” 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


AN EXTRAORDINARY “PRIZE” FIGHT. 

* 

As he announced the appearance of the new attraction 
the crowd was surprised to hear the loud trumpeting of 
an elephant. 

It came nearer and nearer and louder, and with a bow 
Phil sprang from the platform and ran lightly across the 
ring to the big opening in the tent where the animals 
entered. 

Just as he reached this entrance a keeper handed him a 
whip, then the great flap of canvas rolled back and dis- 
closed the elephant. 

It was perhaps the most daring experiment in the young 
showman’s career, but he set his teeth hard and determined 
to go through it. 

“Quietly, Josephine ! Easy, old girl !” he called, com- 
mandingly, as he ran back toward the ring, only a few 
feet ahead of the monster. 

But it was not the trick elephant herself that was at- 
tracting the attention of the crowd. It was the great, 
gilded cage that she was dragging that they knew held 
the new attraction. 

There were gasps of surprise as the audience caught 
sight of the beast in the cage, for nothing quite so comical 
was ever seen before in a circus. 

“What is it ?” was the cry that spread from lip to lip, as 


2i6 An Extraordinary “Prize” Fight. 


the people actually stood on their seats to get a closer look 
at the creature. 

“You’ve hit it the first shot!” called out Phil, de- 
lightedly. “That’s just what it is — a ‘scrapping What- 
is-it !’ ” * 

Josephine had dragged the big cage into the center of 
the ring, and then a man in one end of the tent turned 
a strong calcium light directly on the strange creature. 

It looked all the world like a monstrous fat man, 
dressed in a long frock coat and a battered “plug” hat, 
sitting back toward them in the cage, but in an instant 
every one knew that it was an animal of some sort. 

“Turn around, old man, and give us a look at you!” 
yelled one, and every one laughed and craned their necks 
a little farther. 

Phil ordered the elephant to drag the cage into the cen- 
ter of the ring, and then the audience watched breath- 
lessly to see what would happen. 

In an instant the inquisitive clown was tiptoeing up 
to the cage, then as he caught sight of the queer creature 
he fairly shook with laughter. 

A moment later he began rolling up his sleeves and 
making signs to the audience. It was plain to them all 
that a fight was in order. 

Philips sprang forward and opened the door of the 
cage, and the clown walked up boldly and shook his fist 
at the strange creature. 

“Come out of there, you dude!” he yelled, at the top of 
his lungs. “I can lick you hands down if you are the 
Champion Scrapper of the Universe !” 


An Extraordinary “Prize” Fight. 217 


“Fair play!” called out Philips, walking up to the 
clown. “This gentleman stands ready to meet all com- 
ers, but it is Marquis of Queensberry or nothing with the 
champion.” 

“Make it the Duke of Kilkenny, for all I care,” bawled 
the clown. “I can lick him at sight! Bring on the old 
duffer !” 

In an instant a ring was roped off for the fight, and 
the clown took his place in one of the corners. 

A keeper walked up to the cage and said a few words, 
and then something happened that astonished the spec- 
tators. 

The “old man,” as they called him, suddenly arose up 
on his toes and gave a leap that carried him ten feet into 
the arena. 

“IPs the boxing kangaroo,” yelled the crowd in delight. 
“Now for a dandy prize fight, and good luck to the 
winner !” 

Two minutes later the combatants were “at it” in great 
shape, with Phil as referee and Philips and one of the 
keepers as trainers. 

The clown made a feint to land a right-hander on the 
kangaroo’s jaw, but the animal’s curious hands were 
working so hard that it looked to the crowd as if his at- 
tempt had been unsuccessful. 

Finally he made a terrible lunge and struck out with 
both fists. 

As he did so the kangaroo gave a bound into the air and 
one of his long legs shot out with the rapidity of lightning. 

It struck the clown squarely in the pit of his well- 


218 An Extraordinary “Prize” Fight. 

padded stomach and sent him flying over backward to 
his corner. 

“First blood for the kangaroo !” called out the young 
showman, as a fresh streak of paint appeared suddenly on 
the clown’s features. 

“I’ll lick him for that!” yelled the clown, as he broke 
away from his trainer and made another lunge at the 
beast. 

Another kick from the kangaroo sent him flying clear 
over the rope, and Philips promptly claimed a “foul,” and 
pretended to make trouble. 

Phil yelled “Time !” but the clown was too scared to 
come back, so he promptly decided the contest in the 
kangaroo’s favor. 

“You can see that this gentleman is still the champion,” 
he said to t 1 e audience, “but if there is any one in the 
tent that thinks he can best him he is welcome to come 
into the ring and try a round with him.” 

“No, thanks !” yelled the crowd. “We’d rather be 
excused !” 

Phil laughed and ordered the keeper to put the kan- 
garoo back in the cage, and then seizing the whip again 
he led Josephine away, dragging the cage containing the 
“champion” after him. 

Such a roar as went up when the kangaroo vanished ! 
The whole event had been exactly what Phil wished, a 
decided novelty. 

Before they had much time to talk it over Phil was 
back in the ring, and the cowboys were having fun with 
the “bucking bronchos.” 


An Extraordinary “Prize” Fight. 219 

Pepper won great applause by his exhibition of temper, 
but he was finally subdued without doing any damage 
further than to give every man that mounted him a ter- 
rible jouncing. 

It was Rushington’s chance now to make his speech, 
so in an instant he had mounted to the little platform. 

As he stood there with his head erect the people cheered 
him, but his sharp ears detected a few vicious hisses. 
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, in his clear, musical 
voice, “I want to thank you again for your courtesy and 
kindness ! Since I came to this section of the State I have 
received nothing but kindness at your hands, and in re- 
turn I have tried to give you a show worth seeing ! But 
to-day something has happened that distresses me ter- 
ribly. I found out this afternoon that I had two traitors 
in my employ, I refer now to Gray and Smith, my former 
ringmaster and trainer. What they have against me I 
do not know, but I am told that they object to working 
for a boy, although I have never seen that they objected 
to the boy’s money!” 

There was such a shout of laughter at this that Phil had 
to stop, but in a minute he went on without any furthe” 
interruptions. 

“Now, friends, what I want to say is this ! These men 
are working to injure my reputation. They wish the 
public to think that I am reckless, and that I even risked 
their lives to-day with my elephants. Well, all I have to 
say is this : No baser lie was ever told ! The fact that I 
discharged Smith this afternoon for his criminal care- 
lessness is proof, I am sure, that I am in deadly earnest. 


220 An Extraordinary “Prize” Fight. 


“No animal of mine shall ever harm any one, although 
of course I cannot guarantee long life to any one who is 
reckless enough to enter the ring with my new attraction.*’ 

There was another shout, but Phil kept right on, his 
voice so clear that not a word escaped them. 

“Those two men, Smith and Gray, are cowards/’ he 
said, plainly. “They attacked me to-day when I was ab- 
solutely alone, and if my friend Arkwright had not hap- 
pened to come at the right minute they would probably 
have killed me. Now, I ask you, friends, was I right in 
discharging them? Just because I am a boy, must I allow 
my reputation to be ruined?” 

“Not much ! You did just right !” shouted a voice from 
the seats. 

“We’ll stand by you, Rushington ! You are all right !” 
cried another. “You are as brave as they make ’em, and 
your ‘What-is-it’ is a dandy!” 

“Thank you ! I knew you would be fair and square !” 
shouted the young showman. “So now I will not fear 
what those cowardly fellows may say, and we’ll go on to 
the next event, which will conclude the evening’s per- 
formance.” 

Again the trumpeting of the elephants was heard at 
the entrance, and again Phil ran forward to act as their 
trainer. 

“A game of craps will now be played by the two big- 
gest darkies in the world,” announced Ringmaster Philips, 
“but for the safety of our patrons there will be no 
battle !” 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


A DASTARDLY DEED. 

The great, clumsy animals seemed as gentle as kittens 
as Phil ordered them around, yet every one knew that it 
needed only a word to make them roar with anger, and 
this knowledge made the young showman’s control seem 
even more marvelous. 

They threw the dice in a way that amused the audience 
greatly, and Phil even allowed them to trumpet at each 
other, but just at the right moment he drove them back 
to their quarters, and this was the end of the evening’s 
performance. 

As the crowd went out of the big tent there was a per- 
fect babel of voices, for every one was talking of Phil and 
his speech, and all seemed to agree that he was a fine, 
manly young fellow. 

“Rushington has got two bad men to deal with,” said 
one of the most prominent gentlemen of the town to 
Walt as he passed him in the door of the tent. “That 
fellow Gray is a treacherous devil, and as for Smith, he’s 
as cruel as they make them.” 

“Mr. Rushington knows it, and will be on his guard,” 
was Walt’s reply. “He isn’t afraid of either of the 
knaves except as he said to-night in the ring, he’s afraid 
of their injuring his reputation as a showman.” 

“They’ll never do that,” said the gentleman, laughing. 


222 


A Dastardly Deed. 


“Rushington is all right! Why, that boxing kangaroo 
alone ought to make him famous.” 

Philips came along just then, and a little later Phil 
joined them. 

They walked to one side of the tent where they could 
see the people as they passed out, and were soon talking 
quietly over the success of the new attraction. 

Our hero was just about to say something when Philips 
touched his arm. 

“Quick ! Isn’t that Gray ?” he whispered, as he pointed 
toward the entrance. 

Both Walt and Phil looked quickly and saw that he was 
right. Gray, the discharged ringmaster, was skulking 
along on the fag end of the crowd, but he was soon lost to 
sight when he passed the lanterns at the entrance. 

“I’ll bet he was in the tent and started that hissing,” said 
Walt, “or else he’s around spying on the premises !” 

“I’ve a notion to go after him,” cried Phil, starting for- 
ward. 

“Oh, don’t bother with him to-night,” said Philips, 
gravely. “You’ve put a stop to their attempts to hurt 
your reputation ; now you can afford to wait until you get 
a good chance to lick them.” 

“Perhaps you are right,” said our hero, good-naturedly ; 
“but come, I guess they are all out ! Let’s have a look at 
the ticket office.” 

The three walked slowly to the tent that was near the 
entrance gate. The men were putting out the lights in 
the big tent and closing it for the night, while the per- 
formers were starting toward their nearby lodgings. 


A Dastardly Deed. 


223 


Mamie and Isabel were together, with Joe Dillon as an 
escort, so Phil was satisfied that they were well pro- 
tected. 

“Our best night so far,” said the ticket man when he 
saw Phil. “I tell you you’ve made a hit with your new 
attraction.” 

“Yes, the kangaroo was a decided ‘go/ ” said Philips. 
“It made up first rate for the disappearance of Zara.” 

Phil had been so excited over the handling of the ele- 
phants that he had almost forgotten the girl, but now he 
turned to the new ringmaster and held out his hand to 
him. 

“You helped me out fine, old fellow ! How did you 
think to do it? That was a great idea of yours to give 
them a glimpse of Mamie and make them all think she was 
the trapeze performer.” 

“Oh, you can thank the little Irish girl for that!” said 
Philips, promptly. “It seems she saw Zara getting ready 
to bolt, and after doing her best to make her stay, she sent 
word to me by the clown how to get around it.” 

“Mamie is a good friend to have,” said Phil, very 
soberly. 

“So is Isabel,” spoke up Walt. “They are as true as 
steel, both of them, and worth a dozen of that pink-and- 
white-faced Zara !” 

Our hero turned away. He was thoroughly angry 
with himself. He was beginning to wonder why he had 
cared so much for Zara. 

“You shut up shop, Walt,” he said, turning back, “and 
see here, Philips, IT1 hire you for a month if you will 


224 


A Dastardly Deed. 


stay. It’s worth a whole lot of money to have a ring- 
master that is trustworthy.” 

“Then expect me bright and early to-morrow,” an- 
swered Philips, as he started to leave, “for if I am going to 
stick to the job I want a little practice.” 

Phil walked into the big tent alone and found every- 
think shipshape. There was just one lantern left burning 
down by the entrance to the animals’ quarters. 

“I guess I’ll have a look and see that everything is all 
right,” he said to himself. “There’s one keeper I know 
is a friend of Smith’s, and it’s just as well to keep an eye 
on him.” 

He crossed the tent, and was soon in among the cages. 
Everything was as quiet as possible, except that some of 
the smaller animals were restless. 

There was a dim light from a couple of lanterns hang- 
ing high in the tent, just enough to show him his way 
among the cages as he walked slowly around. 

Suddenly Phil became aware that some one was follow- 
ing him. He had not heard a sound, yet he was conscious 
of their presence. 

A sense of danger took possession of his soul, and in an 
instant he was on his guard and ready to meet it. 

He moved on a few steps, just as though nothing had 
occurred, and then he did actually hear a footstep follow- 
ing him. 

Suddenly it occurred to Phil that it might be the watch- 
man, the man who looked after the animals while the 
keepers were sleeping. 


A Dastardly Deed. 225 

He wheeled abruptly and took a dozen steps. This 
brought him exactly between two of the big cages. 

“Who are you ? Speak quick !” he said in a sharp voice. 

There was no reply, only the sound of heavy breathing. 

The young showman caught up a club that was leaning 
against the cage, but before he could turn, his enemy was 
upon him. 

Some one exactly in the rear caught him quickly around 
the body, then his arms were jerked behind him, and deftly 
pinioned. 

The next instant the form of the discharged trainer 
loomed up before him. 

“Quick ! Throw him in here !” commanded Smith in an 
ugly voice, at the same time reaching over and unfasten- 
ing the door of one of the cages. 

Phil had just time to see a pair of hideous eyes glaring 
at him from one end of the cage, then a terrific blow on 
the head completely dazed him for a minute. 

Then he was pitched forward and fairly shoved through 
the narrow door, the brutal trainer pushing him with the 
strength of a giant. 


CHAPTER XXX. 


A VICTORY. 

During the next few minutes poor Phil suffered agonies. 

Every second he expected to be torn in pieces, and he 
could not make even an ordinary resistance with his hands 
bound behind him. 

He could hear the two men hurrying from the place, 
leaving him, as he supposed, to be devoured by a monster. 
As he stood awaiting his fate, he seemed suddenly to be- 
come calmer. The great eyes were still fixed upon him 
from the end of the cage, but there was something in their 
gaze that did not look natural. 

He waited a moment until he could see more clearly, 
then suddenly burst into a roar of laughter. 

“Well, if this isn’t rich! They think that they have 
locked me in the tiger’s cage, but here I am shut in with 
a stuffed panther!” 

His roar of laughter astonished the animals, and the 
tiger in the opposite cage set us a fearful growling. 

Phil shuddered as he thought what had come near be- 
ing his fate. He was sure that it was only the merest ac- 
cident that had saved him. Smith knew nothing, of 
course, of the extra cage for the kangaroo which was 
standing exactly where the panther’s cage had stood when 
he was driven from the tent after the day performance. 
In making room for this cage the others had been moved 


A Victory. 227 

so that now the stuffed panther occupied the place where 
the tiger had been only a few hours earlier. 

In the semi-darkness he had not noticed the beast, but 
had deliberately tried to murder Phil, and no doubt they 
thought that the crime would never be found out, for the 
death of the young showman would be laid at his own 
door. It would be startling proof that he was really reck- 
less and foolhardy. 

But here was our hero as safe as possible, locked in the 
cage with the harmless panther. 

If it had not been so serious it would have been very 
funny, but Phil was so anxious to get out that he did not 
waste much time in thinking. 

He yelled for help at the top of his voice, and the next 
minute the watchman rushed in fairly shaking with terror. 

"It’s only me, Mr. Jones !” called out Phil, coolly. “I’ve 
been locked in this cage by Smith and Gray. They got 
tangled on the cages and thought this was the tiger’s.” 

“So that’s why Jim called me out !” cried the watchman 
in astonishment. 

He unfastened the door and helped to drag his employer 
out, then cut the cords with‘.^hich his arms had been 
pinioned. 

“Why, they are downright murderers, Mr. Rushing- 
ton!” he cried, angrily, “and Jim’s as bad as the two of 
them, for he must have let them in here after making an 
excuse to get me out of the quarters.” 

“I was suspicious of him, that’s why I came out here,” 
said our hero ; “but they took me unawares, and bound my 


228 A Victory. 

arms. It’s no fault of theirs that I’m not dead this 
minute !” 

“They’ll never get in here again,” muttered the watch- 
man, furiously, “and if I get my hands on Jim I’ll pound 
him to jelly !” 

Phil gave him some instructions, and then hurried out. 
In half an hour he was on the track of the men with his 
chum, Walt Arkwright, and two sheriffs to keep him 
company. 

It was almost morning before they caught the three 
rascals. They were waiting at the railroad station, and 
would have been gone in fifteen minutes. 

As the two sheriffs stepped up to them they caught sight 
of Phil and were so surprised to see him alive and well 
that for a minute they were actually scared out of all idea 
of resistance. 

The two sheriffs handcuffed them together and marched 
them away, for they had special warrants for the rascals 
in their pockets all ready. 

Inside of the station our hero saw a heavily veiled 
woman, and after taking a sharp look at her he walked 
directly up to her. 

“So you lied to me, Zara !” he said, in a low voice. “You 
ran away, after all, and left me in the lurch! Do you 
think that is the way to treat a friend?” 

The little trapeze performer began to cry bitterly. As 
she moved her veil to one side Phil could see that she was 
pale from suffering. 

“Tell the truth, Zara,” he said, more gently; “did you 


A Victory. 229 

run away of your own free will, or were you forced to do 
so by that brutal fellow ?” 

Zara did not speak, but she nodded her head. It was 
plainly to be seen that she was ashamed of her actions. 

“Do you wish to come back?” Phil asked again. “If 
you do I will take you, but I shall watch you very closely. 
I find you are not a girl to be trusted.” 

There was nothing that he could say that would have 
hurt her any worse, and she finally broke down and made 
a full confession. 

It seemed that she was really engaged to be married to 
Smith, although she admitted freely that she did not love 
him, and had only accepted him when he threatened her 
with injury. 

He had secured a position with the circus first, and then 
told her to apply without even saying that she knew him. 

Why he did this she did not know, but she had done as 
he told her, and then came the part of the story that ex- 
plained the rest, the trainer, Smith, was a friend of Gabe 
Wagner’s. 

“They fixed it up between them to injure you,” she said, 
sorrowfully, “and I was so scared I did not dare tell you.” 

“You shall come back and stay with the show, Zara,” 
said Phil, when she finished. “No doubt Mr. Smith will 
spend some years in jail, and during that time you will 
have a chance to marry some other fellow.” 

Instead of being shocked, poor Zara burst out laughing. 
She was delighted to be free from the repulsive en- 
gagement. 

At the afternoon performance Zara made the new ring- 


230 A Victory. 

master’s promise good, for her aerial performance was 
simply marvelous. 

Phil and Walt stood looking at her from one side of 
the ring, and of course it was natural that they should be 
talking about her. * 

“I guess she’s all right now,” said Phil, after watching 
the girl’s marvelous dexterity on the trapeze. 

And Walt agreed with him. 

Two days later the circus moved once more, and Phil, 
the showman, ran up against fresh adventure. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


OFF THE TRACK. 

“Hello, Rush ! What’s the matter ? Anything on the 
track, or have we lost our pacemaker? We’ve been crawl- 
ing along like a snail ever since we left Kenora !” 

Phil had just entered the passenger coach at the rear 
of the circus train when Walt accosted him. 

“Bad roadbed on this stretch, the engineer tells me,” 
said the young showman, dropping into a seat. “Then, 
besides, we are in the wake of a slow freight that was 
switched in some distance back. It’s rough on us, but the 
animals like it.” 

“Get to Hinton before dark, do you think, old man ?” 

“Hardly ! We’re due there at eight-forty, and it’s now 
six-thirty, and growing darker every minute. Still, that 
will give us time to stretch our canvas before midnight and 
get a fair night’s sleep if everything goes easy.” 

“And we need it, you bet ! I could sleep standing up ! 
It’s been a tiresome trip, I don’t see how the girls stand 
it !” 

“As if we could not endure twenty-four hours on the 
train! Why, it’s any amount better than riding in the 
wagons, and we’ve had enough of that, haven’t we, 
Mamie ?” 

It was Isabel Currier who answered. She had been 
sitting in a rear seat with Zara, but as she spoke she 
arose and came over to him. \ 


232 


Off the Track. 


“Faith, it’s mesilf that feels a thrifle onaisy thin,” called 
out Mamie. “It’s slapin’ I’ve been wid me head on the 
sate until I’ve a crick in me neck! Oh, Rushy, darlint, 
couldn’t ye hurry thim a bit? Sure, the ould cars are 
just a crapin’ over the rails, and the loikes av us all half 
famished for a bite of supper !” 

“There are lots of sandwiches and some gingersnaps 
left/' called out Walt, “and here’s some chewing gum, 
Mamie, if you are really starving!” 

“Kape it, thin, and stop yer mouth wid it, Walter, me 
b’y !” said Mamie, promptly. “Sure it’s me stomach that’s 
askin’ fer the sight of food and not me jaws that are 
lookin’ fer exercoise !” 

“Have you looked at the tigers lately, Mr. Rushing- 
ton?” spoke up Joe Dillon, the handsome new clown who 
had only recently joined the circus. 

“Not for a couple of hours,” said Rush. “I’ve been 
looking at those mountains ever since we got into West 
Virginia. The tigers are in the next car, I’ve heard them 
roar occasionally, and the trainer reported them all right 
when we left Kenora.” 

“I thought the door was weak, but I may have been 
mistaken. Dick ought to know, he’d be the first victim 
if the beasts broke loose, for he’s insisted on staying out- 
side to protect the brakeman !” 

“And the cage that the leopard is in will bear looking 
at, Mr. Rushington,” called out one of the bareback riders. 
“The keepers was showing me how shaky it was the last 


Off the Track. 


233 

time we stopped. This jolting over bad roadbeds is rough 
on cages.” 

“Everything was all right enough at the last stop,” said 
Phil, a little anxiously. “I looked over the train myself. 
Still, I’m glad you spoke. It shows that you are all 
looking out for the safety of the animals.” 

“Our own safety, you mean,” said Walt, with a laugh. 
“We don’t want to have the tiger suddenly take a stroll 
through the train, and I don’t fancy the leopard would 
make a very desirable traveling companion.” 

“Shure it’s the shnakes that I do be after dreading 
most,” said Mamie. “I inherit the blissed St. Patrick’s 
avairsion to the bastes ! The very sight av thim riptiles 
gives me the shivers !” 

“Come off, Mamie! No airs!” called Walt, tantaliz- 
ingly. 

“W’uldn’t the bad manners av the b’y jar ye?” asked 
Mamie loftily, as she tilted her nose a few inches higher 
in the air. 

“We’ve got some beauties, all right,” said Dillon, laugh- 
ing. “That big boa is the old original serpent himself, 
I do verily believe. He’s old enough to have been in the 
Garden of Eden.” 

“Shure there’s another chance fer ye to fake, Rushy, 
dear!” cried Mamie, quickly. “C’uldn’t ye hire a ven- 
triloquist to make the owld baste talk, and then placard 
the crater as the owld, original sinner?” 

“I’m afraid it wouldn’t go,” said Phil, good-naturedly; 
“but here’s a bit of news that I want you all to know. 


234 Off the Track. 

Might as well give it to you now while we are all 
together.” 

He had stood up in the aisle and was holding on to one 
of the seats, and in a minute every eye in the car was upon 
him. 

There were trapeze performers, gymnasts, jugglers and 
canvasmen, to say nothing of the bareback riders, trainers 
and keepers, and as Phil called their attention they all 
met his gaze fearlessly, for there was not one among them 
but was friendly to the young showman. 

“There’s no line of business but has its disagreeable 
features,” began Phil; “but Pm inclined to think that 
the circus business has more than its share. I no sooner 
get free from treacherous rascals and ruffians than I go 
plump up to the neck into some other kind of trouble ! A 
man back here at Kenora gave me my news. He says that 
the moonshiners down in this section are unusually hard 
up this year — haven’t sold ‘moonshine’ enough to pay 
their expenses, so they are just on edge for any old thing 
that means money, and a circus is a cinch — they are al- 
ready planning to swoop down on us !” 

“But how can they hurt us? They don’t dare touch 
us,” broke in Walt. 

“I ain’t so sure ! They’re perfect dare-devils — not 
afraid of anything,” said Phil. “Why, this man said he 
had got wind of a plan to steal one of our animals, and 
hold it for ransom just as if it was.a human being!” 

“Gee ! I hope they choose the tiger !” cried Walt, with 
a whoop. 


Off the Track. 


235 

“Or ther boxin’ kang’roo vvid ther knockout drops in his 
feet!” said Burt Wister. 

“They’d drop him lively, and then knock the stuffing 
out of him!” retorted Walt. “No, the tiger’s the beast 
for them to tackle !” 

“Faith, let thim take his joblots, the shnake!” chimed 
in Mamie, promptly. 

“Or Josephine, the trick elephant,” said Isabel, laugh- 
ing. “They’d be glad enough to get rid of her without 
any ransom!” 

“The man was serious,” said Phil, as soon as he could 
be heard. “He was a decent sort of a chap, and he was 
really worried. He told me to look sharp and be sure not 
to hire any one of them in the circus.” 

“You are not likely to do that; we are not short- 
handed,” said Walt, and then he suddenly raised the win- 
dow and stuck his head out as far as he could get it. 

“What in thunder has happened?” asked Dillon, spring- 
ing up in his seat. 

The young circus owner did not speak, but darted 
toward the door, and the next second Walt pulled in his 
head with a furious exclamation. 

“Hold on for your lives!” he shouted at the top of his 
lungs. “There’s something wrong ahead, and it’s no ac- 
cident, either ! I saw a man sneaking off into the bushes ! 
Whoop! Jiminy Christmas! This is what I call ex- 
citing !” 

Every person in the car was clinging to the seats by this 


236 Off the Track. 

time, and the train was bumping along in a hair-raising 
manner. 

The next moment there was a crash and a terrible 
crunching noise, and the four forward cars with the en- 
gine went toppling over a low embankment. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


SOME EMPTY CAGES. 

Before any one knew what had happened, Phil Rush- 
ington re-appeared in the door of the car. 

“Don’t be frightened! It’s only a spread rail! The 
engine has gone off and so has the leopard, and the two 
big snakes, to say nothing of the property car and the 
tigers. Lucky for us we are right side up, thanks to the 
brakeman, who uncoupled us just in the nick of time!” 
he cried, breathlessly. 

“But the fellow, did you see him ?” shouted Arkwright, 
springing to his feet. “A big, black brute of a man 
skulked away in the bushes just as the accident happened ! 
Quick ! Let’s get after him, boys, but first we have to look 
out for the girls !” 

“Mercy ! Don’t mind us ! We’re all right !” cried Isa- 
bel, promptly; “but, oh, Walt, do go and look after the 
horses !” 

“And moind the monkeys, Walter, me b’y ! Sure it’s not 
the loikes av thim that I’d want to see hurted !” 

They were all hurrying toward the door as they spoke, 
and the girls were rubbing a lot of bruises where they 
had bumped about when the car was uncoupled. 

“Hurry, Mr. Rushington !” yelled the conductor from 
outside. “Git a move on, the whole lot of you, or you’ll 
lose your tiger!” 

Phil bounded to the platform just in time to see his 


238 Some Empty Cages. 

most valuable beast making straight for the mountains. 
It was his biggest tiger, but our hero was too late to 
stop it. 

There was a narrow space just outside of the rails, and 
as they all reached the ground they were obliged to walk 
“Indian file,” Phil ahead, and all facing toward the wreck 
of the four cars and the engine. It was a lonely spot, 
many miles from any village, with uneven hills rising to 
dizzy mountain heights on the east, and a wide stretch of 
open country and another more distant range of hills on 
the west. Fortunately the embankment was low, not over 
two feet, and the engine was right side up, although her 
nose had ploughed a deep furrow in the soft clay where 
she had landed. 

The engineer and fireman were just picking themselves 
up, for they had jumped just in time to escape the tumble, 
and both men were soon drawing the fire so as to pre- 
vent an explosion. 

But the first glimpse of the derailed cars struck every 
one with horror. The property car had one end smashed 
into splinters, while the animal cars were all toppled on 
their sides, and the door of the tiger cage had been torn 
off completely. 

“I hope none of the animals are hurt!” cried Phil, as 
he sprang down the embankment and tried to peer into 
the cages. 

A roar from the other tiger cheered him a little. She 
was safe in her compartment of the double cage, and was 
probably hardly aware yet that her companion had de- 
serted her. 


*39 


Some Empty Cages. 

“Go easy!” warned Walt, who was right behind him. 
“The others may be loose for all you know ! Gee ! if this 
isn’t a smashup for fair, I’ll eat my hat, and no one can 
make me believe it was an accident, either !” 

“If that is the case, I must guard the whole train,” said 
Phil, quickly. “Go back to the rear, Dillon, you and 
Philips ! If you see any one lurking around that looks 
suspicious, nab them without ceremony, and give three 
sharp whistles !” 

“I seen a man jes’ before we struck, Mr. Rushington!” 
called out the engineer. “He was one of them ‘moon- 
shiners,’ unless I’m much mistaken. They ain’t no one 
else roun’ hyar ’cept them fellers an’ niggers !” 

“The man I saw was as black as the ace of spades,” 
said Arkwright. “Ten to one he’s one of those moun- 
taineers you were warned about, Rush ! Well, they’ve 
done us a mighty dirty trick, that’s all I’ve got to say 
about it!” 

“I should say so !” said our hero. “Still, I can hardly 
believe it ! Why, instead of one animal they tried to steal 
my whole circus !” 

There were a dozen keepers and trainers peering about 
the derailed cages now, but it was getting so dark that 
they could not see distinctly. 

“It’s too dark to try to capture the fellow now,” said 
Phil. “No doubt he has made a break for the hills, and 
we would only get lost if we followed him. We’ll have 
to stay right here and attend to our injuries first, to- 
morrow we’ll have time to get after the miscreant.” 


240 Some Empty Cages. 

“And engineer a tiger hunt as well,” added Arkwright, 
groaning. 

“The snakes are all right,” called one of the trainers. 
“I can see their shiny backs ! They’re alive and kicking !” 

“Oh, come off, Pete! A snake can’t kick!” retorted 
Walt. “But how about the leopard. Can you see any- 
thing of his joblots?” 

“Glory hallelujah, boss! He’s gone!” bawled the man. 
“His cage is broken and the critter has skedaddled !” 

“Whoop ! I hope he gets on the trail of the nigger !” 
yelled Walt. “Leopards love niggers, they tell me. Well, 
he’s booked for a good supper if the rest of us go hungry !” 

“And are all the shnakes safe then, Rushy?” called 
Mamie, who was right behind the men, trying to peer 
into the cages as fast as the men ripped off the splintered 
sides. 

“I can’t see but one,” said Phil, as he got down on his 
knees in the clay and tried to see the whole length of the 
cage bottom. 

“Then it’s mesilf that’ll be after lavin’ ye !” cried Mamie, 
picking up her skirts and scrambling back up the em- 
bankment. “Sorra a bit will I stay and kape ye company, 
Rushy, wid one of them sphalpeens loike to swallow me 
any minute!” 

“You girls had all better get back into the car !” cried 
Rush, turning toward Isabel. “There’s no knowing how 
many of the beasts are at large, to say nothing of the 
moonshiners that may be lurking about here !” 

“They’d better not steal me !” cried Isabel, hotly, “for 
they would find me another tiger.” 


241 


Some Empty Cages. 

“Faith, thin, I think I’d be that same!” cried Mamie. 
“Bad cess to the one that howlds Mamie Meagen for 
ransom !” 

“I can’t see distinctly, but I think there’s a hyena miss- 
ing,” said Walt, after a minute. “I’ll have to get a light 
before I can be sure of it.” 

“Can you spare a man, Mr. Rushington?” asked the 
conductor, just then. “There’s a train due to pass here in 
half an hour; it’s a freight train, but I guess we’ll find a 
willing crew aboard of her. If your man will go back and 
swing a lantern, my crew may be able to mend the rails 
so that there will be no delay when some one comes to our 
assistance.” 

A couple of bareback riders who were standing near 
offered to perform that duty, so the young showman got 
them each a lantern and started them back along the 
track. 

“Here, put this in your pocket,” he said to one of them, 
at the same time handing him a good-sized pistol. 

“If you see any suspicious-looking niggers lurking 
around, use it !” he whispered in a cautious tone. “Don’t 
try to kill them, but just clip their wings ! If any one is 
guilty of wrecking my train, I won’t sleep nights until I 
square accounts with him !” 

“I guess I’ve got a full list of the ‘casualties,’ ” said 
Walt, stepping up the embankment. “Toby, the hyena 
that you missed, is as dead as a door nail — probably died 
from fright, as his end of the cage is not badly damaged. 
The leopard has vamoosed as well as the boa and the tiger, 


242 Some Empty Cages. 

and the tiger cage must be mended at once, for if the 
other beast only knew it, she could break loose, too !” 

Phil gave some quick orders as soon as he heard this 
report. 

“Set two of the carpenters at work on the tiger cage 
and tell Pete and Dan to hustle for torches. The splinters 
from that car will be as good as anything. We must catch 
our animals if possible before the freight train comes, but 
how the dickens will we ever do it ?” 

“Pll bet three dollars the tiger is half way to Africa 
and sniffing the blood of an Englishman by this time,” 
laughed Walt; “and as for the leopard, he’s probably in 
somebody’s henyard! Gee! But won’t the moonshiners 
up there in the mountains jump when they see his snake- 
ship ! They’ll think they’ve got ’em for fair !” 

“Perhaps it will be a lesson to them !” said our hero, 
with a sharp glance at the frowning mountains. “Maybe 
one sight of the boa will reform the rascals. They’ll be 
so badly scared that they’ll go out of business !” 

“Mebbe they don’t drink their own stuff,” said Burt 
Wister, who was close behind Phil. “Can’t tell, me boy, 
whar yer goin’ ter find wisdom.” 

“He’ll wreck their stills all right,” said Walt, “but I say, 
old man, what’s that light upon the mountain ?” 

The young showman took another glance and saw a 
quick flash of light that looked as if it might have come 
from some witch’s kettle. 

“A coal pit,” said the engineer who had overheard him. 
“How’d it do, Mr. Rushin’ton, to put ’em on their guard? 


Some Empty Cages. 243 

Not very pleasant fo’ the poor devils if that tiger sh’d 
happen to pounce on ’em !” 

“We must warn them,” said Phil, anxiously. “I should 
blame myself otherwise if my animals did any damage !” 

The girls had all climbed back into the car, and the 
keepers were looking after the animals in the cages that 
remained on the track, and in a very few minutes the train 
crew were at work on the spread rails with the conductor 
and engineer holding pine torches for them to work by. 

Phil was standing facing the wrecked cages and won- 
dering how he could manage to capture the runaways, as 
well as remove the poor animals that were in the cages 
to safer quarters, when he felt his sleeve jerked in a pecu- 
liar manner. Turning quickly, he saw Walt with his fin- 
ger on his lips. 

“That black-faced galoot is skulking in the bushes about 
forty feet to the left of the elephant cage. I think he is 
armed. What shall I do ?” he whispered. 

“We’ll have to treat him as we would any other animal,” 
muttered Phil. “Just hold on a minute and I’ll consider 
means to catch him.” 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 


PHIL “HOLDS UP” A TRAIN. 

As he spoke, Phil gave a peculiar whistle, which was 
answered by two of his cowboys, who had been helping 
with the cages, and in less than a minute they came run- 
ning up to him. 

“The scamp that wrecked the train is hiding in those 
bushes,” said the young showman, softly, as he pointed in 
the direction that Walt had mentioned. “I want one of 
you to drop a lasso over his shoulders, if possible. Go 
easy, boys, and don’t let him get a bead on you ! I wish 
to catch him alive.” 

The cowboys grinned and started after their lariats. It 
was a new job for them to be “roping” human beings. 

Phil secured another revolver from his stock in the 
broken property car, and then followed them cautiously. 

It was now so dark that he could hardly tell one from 
the other when they were ten feet ahead of him. 

When both men were ready, Phil called three or four of 
the keepers, and then placing himself at the head of them, 
he made straight for the bushes. 

Before he had gone ten steps a bullet whizzed past his 
ear. 

Phil did not pause, but made a dash for the bushes. 
Another bullet followed, and struck a nearby rock, but it 
glanced off harmlessly, and only made him more de- 
termined than ever. 


Phil “Holds Up” a Train. 


245 


Suddenly a black head appeared over a clump of bushes, 
and Phil knew at once that the fellow was getting des- 
perate. 

It was plain that he could not run for some reason or 
other, and had only lifted his head in order to aim better. 

“Quick ! Let him have it !” he commanded, in a firm, 
low voice. 

In an instant one of the lassos went swirling through 
the air and settled squarely over the fellow’s head. 

“Don’t choke him ! Let it settle below his shoulders !” 
cried our hero, almost instantly. 

There was a sharp jerk on the rope and a yell of rage, 
then the man in the bushes let out a volley of curses. 

It was the work of a minute to drag him through the 
bushes, but long before he reached the open track Phil and 
his men had surrounded him. 

“That’s the chap !” cried Walt. “I caught sight of him 
at the very minute the brakeman uncoupled us !” 

“What’s the matter with you, anyway?” asked Phil, 
bending over him. 

Then in an instant he saw that the fellow’s leg was 
broken. 

“Oh, I see! you received some punishment while you 
were trying to wreck my train, did you? Well, it serves 
you right ! I don’t pity you in the least ! But what’s the 
matter with your pals? They must be a measly lot! 
Made you do the dirty work and then lost you in the 
shuffle !” 

The fellow did not answer by so much as a word, but 


246 Phil “Holds Up” a Train. 

as Phil looked at him under the blaze of one of the torches 
he could see that he was badly frightened. 

“Chuck him in with the elephant!” suggested Walt. 
“The fellow is a murderer ! He’d have wrecked the whole 
train if he had been able !” 

“Give the black rascal to the tiger!” called one of the 
keepers. “Or let the boa have him in place of her mate ! 
The poor snake won’t be so lonesome if she has one of 
her kind to keep her company !” 

“I have a notion to leave him on the track and let the 
slow freight run over him,” said Phil, with a wink at 
Walt. “A quick death is too good for the cowardly 
rascal !” 

The roar of the approaching freight train could be heard 
just then, and this added to the fellow’s terror consider- 
ably. He began to tremble, and his teeth chattered 
violently. 

Every expression of his face showed that he was guilty, 
but it showed also that he was only a poor, ignorant fel- 
low, and that Phil had guessed right in thinking him the 
tool of others. 

It finally ended by our hero ordering him to be carried 
into the passenger coach, and some of the men who were 
pretty fair doctors made him as comfortable as possible, 
but they did not forget to keep him “covered.” 

When the freight train drew up it was as dark as 
pitch for the railroad track was right under the shadow of 
the mountains, 


Phil “Holds Up” a Train. 


247 


The crew, from the conductor down, seemed an ugly 
lot of fellows, and they were plainly angry at the delay 
which the wreck of the circus train was bound to cause 
them. 

Phil and his conductor explained what had happened 
in a very few words, but when they mentioned that some 
of the animals were loose the whole crew of the freight 
train refused to help them. 

“You are a lot of cowards,” said Phil, in disgust, after 
he had tried to argue with them. “Why, that tiger is 
probably a mile away, and the snakes will go straight for 
the nearest water! You’re a great lot of men! I 
wouldn’t take you in trade for my cage of monkeys !” 

“We ain’t no ‘sawdust hoppers,’ nor ‘hair grabbers,’ ” 
said the conductor of the freight train, angrily. “We’ll 
just back down to the first telegraph wire and tap it, then 
let the railroad clear the way for us to pass. We ain’t 
running no circus, and we don’t mean to, neither !” 

“You’ll not back a foot until you have helped us!” said 
Phil, sternly. “I have a perfect right to demand your 
assistance, and if you won’t help to raise my cars that are 
derailed you must drag the balance of my train back until 
you can sidetrack us.” 

“I’ll see the whole ‘push’ in Halifax first !” said the con- 
ductor, furiously. 

Phil bent over in the darkness and whispered to Walt, 
and in a second his chum had darted away on a queer 
errand, while, without a moment’s hesitation, our hero 


24B 


Pin! “Holds Up” a Train, 


sprang upon the platform between the freight cars where 
the conductor was standing. 

“See here, I’ll arrange with you, if it’s money you 
want,” he said again. “I’ll give you fifty dollars to help 
me out of this hole. Drag my six cars back to the switch 
that I saw a little ways back and sidetrack us so that we 
won’t be a menace to traffic on the road, and so that my 
people and animals will be out of danger, and then promise 
to do your best to send me assistance at once and notify 
the people of Hinton what has detained us. You can keep 
the money or divide it with your men; now for the last 
time, will you do what I ask you ?” 

“To the dickens with you ! Neither me nor my men 
will take such chances with our lives! What, monkey 
around these diggin’s with a tiger loose, to say nothin’ of 
a big snake ? Not on yer life.” 

He pulled the bell-rope of his train as he spoke, and 
Phil saw the engineer about to put his hand on the throttle. 

“Remand that order ! Quick !” shouted Phil, as he drew 
his pistol from his pocket. 

The man stared at him blankly, but did not offer to obey 
him. 

“One, two, three — stop at four or I’ll fire !” roared Phil, 
at the same time reaching up with his left hand and seizing 
the bell-rope. 

The fellow struck at Phil, but missed him by an inch. 

The next moment he received a square “left-hander” 
in the face, and as he staggered back against the car ahead 
the engineer shut off his steam, and a dozen circus men, 


Phil “Holds Up” a Train. 249 

headed by Walt, scrambled up over the engine and on to 
the platform. 

Before a man on the freight train could realize what 
was happening both the conductor and engineer were un- 
der the cover of good weapons. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


RETURN OF THE SNAKE. 

“That’s my first experience in ‘holding up’ a train,” 
laughed the young showman, after he had set a good 
guard over his prisoners, and was out on the track again 
superintending operations. 

“Well, you did it as you do everything else, old man ! 
Right up in ‘G,’ with variations ! Oh, you are the only 
Phil Rushington all right, old man !” was Walt’s enthusi- 
astic answer. 

“It pays to be a ‘Jack of all trades,’ ” said Phil, with a 
laugh. “A man can’t be a ‘specialist and run a circus !’ 
Where would I be if I wasn’t equal to emergencies?” 

“In the soup, I guess! Your motto is ‘any old thing 
while you wait,’ ” was Walt’s grim answer. “You’d last 
about a month if you were made of the ordinary stuff ! 
Oh, a fellow has to be a thoroughbred to be in this 
business !” 

“You mean to stay in it,” said Phil, with a scowl. “It’s 
easy enough to get into it — right plum up to the neck, 
but when it comes to staying in or getting out, why, those 
are different problems.” 

“You’ll solve them all right, old man; all you need is 
experience, and you are getting that in large lumps just 
on this particular occasion.” 

“Well, there are others who are learning as well as my- 


Return of the Snake. 


251 


self/’ said Phil, grimly. “That conductor, for instance. 
He knows more than he did five minutes ago, Pm think- 
ing, and there’s more knowledge in store for me if he tried 
to make me any trouble !” 

Not one of the freight train crew had raised a hand to 
defend their conductor and engineer. They seemed com- 
pletely dazed by Phil’s extraordinary methods. 

Five minutes later the uninjured cars were coupled on 
to the engine of the freight train which was backing 
slowly toward the switch that Phil had mentioned, which 
was only about a quarter of a mile distant. 

The conductor of Phil’s special train was in charge of 
the freight train, and the engineer, with a pistol at his 
head, was obeying orders with great alacrity. 

Walt and several of the keepers went back to the de- 
railed cars to see that the animals which were still in the 
cages were prevented from getting out and following 
their companions, and they kept torches burning to light 
up the place so that if there was any lurking around they 
would be able to see the parties. 

The bad place in the track had been carefully mended, 
for the men had only to replace the spikes which the train 
wreckers had removed with a heavy forked crowbar. 

Half an hour later the freight train came slowly back, 
with Phil and a dozen or more of his men on board. As 
it neared the spot where the accident had. taken place, 
Phil’s voice could be heard giving some last instructions. 

“Now you fellows can go on about your business !” he 


252 


Return of the Snake. 


said, sternly, “and I’ll report your conduct to the president 
ot the road to-morrow. Remember, if you attempt any re- 
taliation you’ll get mighty rough treatment, so you’d better 
go ahead quietly the minute we leave you !” 

“Oh, we’ll go ahead all right!” was the conductor’s 
sullen answer. “We ain’t hankerin’ to tarry in these 
diggin’s any longer; but mark my words, I’ll settle with 
you and your ‘spanglers’ some other time ! It’ll be my 
turn next, and I’ll take it, you bet, but I’ll be mighty 
careful that there ain’t any wild critters about. I’ll choose 
a place where the fight will be fairer !” 

“As if there wasn’t as much danger for me as for you !” 
retorted Phil. “Or do you think a tiger prefers a tough 
hide like yours? If he does, he hasn’t as good taste as I 
imagined !” 

Without stopping the train the men sprang off, and 
exactly as he leaped, the man in the cab who had been 
guarding the engineer opened the throttle of the engine 
a little wider. 

This gave the freight train a few yards’ start, and be- 
fore the train hands could collect their senses they had 
nearly passed the scene of disaster. 

“They won’t come back,” said Phil, with a laugh. 
“That conductor was the biggest coward I ever saw ! Just 
fancy his being so afraid of a runaway tiger !” 

“Whar’d he git his lingo?” asked Burt Wister, suddenly. 
“Did you notice, boss, ther feller talked circus like a 
vet-ran ? Why, he act’ly called us gents ‘sawdust hoppers’ 
an' ‘spanglers !’ ” 


Return of the Snake. 


253 


‘‘I noticed that, but didn’t give it any thought ! He’s a 
disgrace to any circus !” said our hero, disgustedly. '‘Well, 
I suppose we’ve got to hang around here all night,” said 
Walt, a little dubiously, “but if the girls are safe it doesn’t 
matter.” 

“I left them well protected. Dillon and Philips will 
patrol the train all night, while the men will keep one 
eye open to the safety of the animals. As for the black 
rascal, he’s in a pretty bad way. Mamie is nursing him 
as carefully as though she was his mother, and even Isabel 
and Zara are weeping over him.” 

“Rats ! Nary a weep, old man ! What are you giving 
us ?” cried Walt. “I’d like to see any of our girls shedding 
tears over such a miscreant!” 

“There are several kinds of tears,” remarked Phil, 
sagely. “The kind that Isabel and Zara are shedding 
are tears of gratitude. They are weeping with delight to 
think that we caught the sinner !” 

“That lets you out ! I accept your explanation, old 
man, but it’s lucky you made it ! Another such break as 
that, and I’ll sue you for libel!” 

“I’ll be sued for carrying on a circus in the mountains 
of West Virginia if I don’t look out,” remarked Phil, a 
little anxiously. “Here I am with animals scattered all 
over the place ! Why, talk about your three rings ! Who 
knows but I may be running a dozen?” 

“Yes, the boa may by doing a double back action wrig- 
gle into one of those illicit stills,” retorted Walt, “and ten 
to one the leopard is making flying leaps into somebody’s 


254 


Return of the Snake. 


chimney, while the tiger is practicing his own special act 
of riding any old thing that he can get his claws into !” 

“He’s a ‘hair grabber’ for you, all right,” laughed Phil, 
“but there’s nothing to be done until daylight that I know 
of, unless it is to try to warn the mountaineers who are 
near here.” 

“When is there another train due?” asked Walt. 

“There’s an express in four hours,” said the conductor, 
holding his watch up to one of the torches. “There’s 
nothing to do but keep our torches burning, and wait 
until then, for it isn’t likely that the freight will send any 
one to our assistance.” 

“No, he’ll let us stay here all night, no doubt,” said 
Phil, bitterly. “I almost wish I had sent some of my men 
on to the next station with them.” 

“Hello! What is that?” cried Walt, as he heard a 
peculiar hissing just behind him. “Blessed if it isn’t the 
snake, come back all by his lonesome !” 

There was a general scramble for places of safety, which 
were few and far between in that particular section. 

Several of the men sprang up on the empty compart- 
ments of the car that had held the leopard. 

Phil stood his ground and waved his torch around 
vigorously. 

“If he eats me he’ll have to swallow me with a mouth- 
ful of fire sauce,” he said, laughing. “Gee! If I only 
had some way of opening his cage and holding his mate 
in, I believe he’d go in without any trouble !” 

“Don’t try it, Rush !” yelled Walt, from a safe distance. 


Return of the Snake. 255 

“One at a time, if you please ; but, thunder and lightning ! 
what are you doing?” 

In the flare of the torchlight he had suddenly seen Phil 
crouching down on the ground with his revolver in his 
hand, and not twenty feet in front of him was the boa 
constrictor. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 


PHIL ENGAGES A GIANT. 

Bang! bang! bang! went the revolver, with lightning- 
like rapidity, each report echoing like a cannon from the 
sides of the distant mountain. 

Phil moved a little to one side and waved his torch 
carefully. The big monster was writhing and hissing, 
so he emptied his revolver into him. 

“He’d orter be dead by this time ! Jiminy Christmas ! 
what a racket !” said one of the men who were crouching 
on the cages. 

“He’s peppered for fair,” answered another voice. 
“Who’d have thought he’d be so tough, the slimy old 
sinner !” 

“Wonder if his mate has a presentiment of what is go- 
ing on — I thought I heard her hiss just as he fired first,” 
remarked the first speaker. 

The men who had crawled too near to the cage which 
contained the live snake dropped off into the mud quickly. 
In their fright they had quite forgotten the close prox- 
imity of the survivor. 

Phil was still waving his torch so that he could watch 
the serpent, but he had not found it necessary to reload 
his weapon. 

“Don’t trust him a minute, Mr. Rushington,” called 
out one of the trainmen. “I wouldn’t believe a snake was 
dead unless I saw him cremated! Why, I killed a snake 


Phil Engages a Giant. 257 

once and left it two days on a flat stone, and at the end of 
that time the beast was still squirming.” 

“Come off, Bob ! You’ve got wheels !” laughed one of 
his companions. 

“Not a bit of it ! I’ve seen worse than that !” retorted 
the fellow. “I saw a snake once that nobody could kill. 
Why, I smashed him as flat as a flounder myself, and it’s 
as true as gospel, that snake pulled himself together and 
in less than an hour I had to smash him all over again. 
That time I didn’t leave so much as a square meal inside 
of him !” 

“Great Scott! What did he do then?” asked the en- 
gineer, obligingly. 

There was a silence like death as the “snake story” was 
completed. 

“Why, the sly old rascal just dragged himself over to 
a bicycle pump that happened to be in the vicinity, and the 
last I saw of him he was fairly scorching across a ten-acre 
lot with his eye peeled for anything that might give him 
a puncture!” 

There was a hollow groan from his listeners as the. 
fellow finished, then violent hands were laid upon his 
collar. 

“What shall we do with him, Mr. Rushington?” asked 
the conductor, sternly. 

“Put him in chains and label him the champion liar,” 
answered Phil, promptly, as he lowered his torch and put 
his revolver in his pocket. 

Walt had come down from his tree, and was standing 


258 Phil Engages a Giant. 

by his chum, and as the laugh over the snake story sub- 
sided he gazed at the big boa regretfully. 

“It’s a pity you had to kill him, Rush, but it was mighty 
exciting! First snake hunt in the dark that I ever wit- 
nessed! You hit him every time, and gee! how the old 
sinner did wriggle !” 

“I hated to do it, but there was no use risking any one’s 
life! Sorry to lose him, though,” was Phil’s gloomy an- 
swer. 

“Oh, maybe he will bob up again serenely, like that one 
we just heard of,” said Walt, with a laugh. “Talk about 
your snake stories — that one was a corker !” 

“I’ll engage Bob as my advance agent if he is so good 
at yarns,” said Phil. “A story like that would make the 
reputation of any circus !” 

“Or break it,” laughed Walt. “Still, it wouldn’t be the 
first whopper that was ever told in the cause. Why, those 
fairy tales have been handed down from the immortal 
Barnum ! Every creature on exhibition under our canvas 
should have a pedigree or a record if I could invent it, but 
the trouble is, I’m a bit shy on inventive genius. Like 
many another good man, I lack imagination !” 

“Rats ! You’re not shy on anything except ‘buttons,’ ” 
laughed Phil. “You lost all your buttons long, long years 
ago ! It’s a pity, but it’s true, and it’s a pity ’tis true, but 
the pity is for the rest of us, and not for you.” 

“Whew ! Poetry, by the gods ! Now, who is shy on 
‘buttons,’ I’d like to know? A man is always daft when 
he gets to spouting poetry !” 

“Especially under such circumstances as these,” said 


Phil Engages a Giant. 259 

the conductor, laughing; “but I guess Rushington is ‘all 
there/ and you, too, Arkwright !” 

“There’s not much fun snake hunting in the dark, but 
you hit him every time, old man,” said Walt, who had got 
close behind his chum while he was charging the enemy. 

The others had all come down from their perches and 
stood around the snake now, and his death throes were 
watched in regretful silence. 

“I wonder what the girls will think!” said the young 
showman, suddenly. “They’ll hear the revolver as sure 
as the world ! It’s a quiet night, and the wind is in that 
direction.” 

“I’ll go and explain, if you say so,” said one of the 
men. 

“Can’t spare you a minute ! The tiger might come 
back ! I’ve lost the snake, but we must capture the tiger 
alive. At this rate of speed I’ll soon be without a circus,” 
said Phil, decidedly. 

Walt swung his torch over toward the derailed cages 
again. The tiger roared at him, and there was a snarl 
from the last remaining hyena. 

“Mighty uncomfortable for them, living upside down, 
I suppose!” he said, in excuse for their rudeness. “It’s 
simply wonderful that they weren’t all smashed to bits — 
suppose it was the way we were crawling along at the time 
of the accident that saved them.” 

“And the coolness of our trainmen,” said Phil, looking 
around at them. “The engineer says he saw the man 
and shut off his steam, but before he fairly got on the 
brakes the engine was over.” 


26 o 


Phil Engages a Giant. 

“And she’s likely to stay where she is for some time, I 
reck’n,” said the engineer, sadly. “This will cost me my 
job, but I wasn’t to blame an atom.” 

“And we’ll all say so when the time comes,” spoke up 
Phil, promptly. “A man isn’t to blame for such an acci- 
dent as that ! Why, how could you have prevented it ?” 

“Listen! I hear something!” whispered Walt, gripping 
his chum’s arm suddenly. “There’s some one calling, 
Rush! Just listen a minute!” 

In an instant every man of them held his breath and 
strained his ears, and each took a firmer grip on the flaring 
torches. 

There was a sharp crackle of bushes on the nearest 
hill, and as they listened it became plainer and plainer. 

“It’s the tiger, I’ll bet !” came in a ghostly whisper from 
the conductor. 

“No, it’s the leopard,” groaned Walt. “I can almost 
hear him purring!” 

“It’s a man !” said Phil, out loud, and made a dash to- 
ward the bushes. 

“Hi, thar ! What you-uns doin’ down thar ? Git outen 
thet, yo’ niggers! ’Pears like you-uns inter some mis- 
chief !” shouted a lusty voice, suddenly. 

Phil stopped halfway across the track and peered up at 
the figure which he could just see outlined on a knoll a 
few yards from the roadbed. 

“We ain’t niggers, we are ‘poor white trash !’ ” called 
back Phil, cautiously. “We’ve had a smash-up! Don’t 
you want to help us ?” 

“Yo’ doan’ say, now!” answered the man, stepping 


26l 


Phil Engages a Giant. 

down to Phil’s level. “I reck’n this hyar ain’t no place fer 
a smash-up, fre’n’, howsomever. Ef I kin help you-uns 
I’m powerful glad ter do it !” 

“He’s all right,” whispered Walt, who had stepped to 
his friend’s side. “Ten to one, he’s from the coal pit that 
we saw up yonder.” 

Just then, by the light of the torches, the man got a 
good glimpse of the splintered cars, and there was no 
mistaking the genuineness in his manner. 

“Powerful snakes ! Wall, I reck’n you-uns did hev er 
smash-up!” he said, quickly. “It’s durn lucky I come 
when I seen yer torches, but to tell ther truth, it was ther 
dog that fetched me.” 

“The dog! What dog?” spoke up Rush, quickly. 

“Gee whiz ! He means the leopard,” whispered Walt, 
under his breath. “Well, if that ain’t the all-fired strangest 
joke on record !” 

“Urn ! By the way, my friend, where did you see my 
dog last?” asked Rush, as calmly as possible. “Was he 
following you or just running ahead? Wouldn’t like him 
to get lost, you know. He’s a valuable animal.” 

The man strode across the tracks before he answered. 
Pie had just caught sight of something that cut his speech 
off abruptly. 

“By ther holy sufferin’ Rebecca ! If it ben’t a circus !” 
he suddenly ejaculated. 

Then he gave a yell that would have done credit to an 
Indian. 

“Goshermighty ! It doan’ seem posserble ! Why, Coon 
Thrasser ain’t seen no circus sence he was knee high ter er 


262 


Phil Engages a Giant. 


grasshopper, and hyar you-uns are a scatterin’ carloads 
of ’em permiscuous-like, jest as ef twan’t nuthin’ per- 
ticklar !” 

Before any one could stop him he was over the track, 
and doing his best to peer through the bars of the topsy- 
turvy cages. 

Walt swung his torch so that the fellow could see the 
animals, while Phil held his so that he could examine the 
man himself and satisfy himself that he was really the in- 
nocent person that his language would imply. 

There was no doubt about his being a genuine moun- 
taineer, and, furthermore, he was a magnificent specimen 
of that particular class of human beings. He stood six 
feet nine or ten inches beyond a doubt, and was developed 
in other ways to correspond with these dimensions. 

His costume consisted of high boots, butternut-colored 
trousers, a flannel shirt and soft, slouch hat, but Phil 
noticed at once that he carried a perfect arsenal. 

He wore a deep belt well filled with cartridges, and 
there was an ugly-looking revolver sticking its nose out at 
one side, while two vicious-looking knives protruded from 
the other. 

Then he was otherwise provided with a substantial rifle 
and a deep deerskin pouch which hung from the belt, and 
which was used presumably to carry birds and small game, 
or whatever else was needful in his precarious mode of 
existence. 

“Ain’t he a Jim Dandy?” whispered Burt Wister to 
Walt. “Ther boss couldn’t do better’n to ’gage him fer er 


Phil Engages a Giant. 263 

giant ! Make a corkin’ giant or wild man of ther moun- 
t’ins.” 

“Good idea ! I’ll suggest it,” muttered Arkwright, 
quickly. “Say, but he’s as tickled as a kid over that tiger 
and hyena !” 

“Pity he didn’t ketch ther dog an’ bring him back in 
his pocket! ’Twouldn’t er fazed him er bit ter hev found 
out ’twas a ‘spotted.’ ” 

“No, the leopard would have been the worst rattled of 
the two, I’ll bet,” was Walt’s answer, and then he moved 
nearer to Phil to whisper his suggestion about the giant. 

Phil had been explaining about the accident to the 
mountaineer, and the man drank in every word with the 
deepest interest. 

“I ’low ’twarn’t no accident,” he said, when the young 
showman had finished. “Thar’s two-legged critters in 
ther hills what mout do jest thet thar kind o’ devilment, 
but you-uns will ketch ’em,” he added, shaking his head 
vigorously. “You-uns ’ll ketch ther black-minded var- 
mints.” 

. “We’ll catch them, you bet!” said Phil, looking up at 
him ; “but see here, my friend, we want you to help us !” 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 


THE GIANT AND THE TIGER. 

In less than five minutes the young showman had en- 
gaged his giant. 

Coon Thrasser, as he called himself, nearly stood on 
his head with delight when Phil asked him to quit moun- 
taineering and play circus giant for a season. 

It was very apparent that the fellow had no family to 
consult, and no home ties that prohibited his joining any- 
thing that came along, and traveling to the ends of the 
earth if he took a notion to do so. 

All he had in the world was on his back, and in a re- 
markably short space of time he had adapted himself to 
his new surroundings. 

“We’ll tog him out in great shape as soon as we get to 
Hinton,” said Phil, laughing. “A pair of high-heeled 
boots will raise him a couple of inches higher, and we’ll 
just put him on the bills as the human skyscraper.” 

There was a- sound of footsteps coming along the rail- 
road track now, and in another minute the little crowd 
around the wrecked cars heard a burst of merry laughter. 

“Mamie, as true as you live !” said Walt, when he heard 
it. “Now, what the mischief is she coming here for? 
Why, it’s nearly midnight, and she ought to be sleeping !” 

“The girls are too nervous to sleep, I suppose,” said 
Phil. “And you can be sure they wouldn’t close their eyes 
if they thought we were in danger.” 


265 


The Giant and the Tiger. 

“It’s nearly time for the express,” said the conductor, 
quickly. “They shouldn’t have walked on the track with- 
out they had torches.” 

Phil ran forward a few rods to meet the party, and was 
surprised to see not only Mamie, but Isabel and Zara, es- 
corted by Philips and the handsome clown, Joe Dillon. 

“You people don’t value your lives very highly,” called 
out Phil. “Perhaps you think I can afford to lose you all 
at once, and replace the whole outfit with trick donkeys 
and such things !” 

“Faith, then, it’s ourselves that’s lost, Rushy, darlint,” 
answered Mamie. “Git howld of me quick, and howld on 
toight, me b’y, for I do be hearin’ the tiger crapin’ after 
me ivery inch of the way, and the shnake, bad luck to it, 
sames to be lur-r-kin’ in ivery shadow.” 

“Don’t worry about his snakeship any more, Mamie,” 
said Phil. “He’s passed in his chips and has gone over the 
great divide! Poor fellow, he very foolishly came back, 
like the cat, and in defense of the balance of the circus I 
was obliged to shoot him.” 

“And was that what ye was a-doin’ faith?' Shure, we 
thought the Spaniards had bombarded ye and the Boers 
was a-comin’! The scare was a tur-r-able one. Rushy, 
dear, me h’ar-rt hasn’t quit its batin’ yit wid the froight ye 
gave me!” 

“I was afraid you would hear the pistol and be 
alarmed,” said Phil. “It only goes to show how much 
you love me, Mamie !” 

“Love, is it, thin, Rushy !” cried the girl, disdainfully. 
“Faith, it’s mesilf that would not flatter ye to that extint ! 


266 


The Giant and the Tiger. 


It’s the ape or the gor-r-illa that I'd love in preference to. 
ye, Rushy, so don’t be after foolin’ yersilf wid thinkin’ 
that ye’ve won me young affections !” 

Just at that moment the roar of the express train was 
heard in the distance, and every one who had been stand- 
ing on the track made haste to scramble to a place of 
safety. 

Phil had directed the men in charge of the stalled cars 
to keep their lights burning, but as the express was com- 
ing from the other direction he and the conductor seized 
torches and ran down the track to be ready to signal at 
the proper minute. 

“We’ll only hold ’em up for a minute,” said the con- 
ductor, as they hurried along. “Can’t expect those fel- 
lows to give us any assistance, as a delay to them may 
mean a serious matter.” 

There was a flash in the distance as the headlight of 
the engine showed through the trees, and in a second 
both torches were being swung vigorously. 

The express train answered their signals with a shriek 
of the whistle, the next minute they had slowed down, 
until, as they reached Phil and the conductor, they were 
barely crawling. 

“Hello, Clarke!” yelled the conductor, who knew the 
engineer of the express, “I’ve had a smash-up just above 
here. Got four cars and an engine off the track. Did you 
hear anything about it before you left Hinton ?” 

“Wrecking train will be here at daylight!” bawled the 
engineer. “Is the track all right ? Sorry I can’t give you 
a lift, but am behind time already !” 


267 


The Giant and the Tiger. 

“Track’s all right, only go easy for a quarter of a mile! 
The balance of my train is sidetracked up yonder!” was 
the conductor’s answer. 

With a snort and a puff, the express was off, and Phil 
came back to his friends feeling a little more cheerful. 

“We’re in for a night of it, but the ‘repair wagon’ will 
be along in the morning,” he explained. “Now, as there 
are no more trains due until five o’clock the most of you 
can turn in and get a wink of sleep. No need of all hands 
staying up to watch for the tiger. 

“Goshermighty ! Is ther tiger loose ?” asked the moun- 
taineer, quickly. This was a bit of information that Phil 
had neglected to give him. 

The girls all jumped when they heard the strange voice, 
for the fellow had been squatting down by the cages, and 
they had not noticed him. 

“Yes, the tiger is loose,” said Phil, with a grin, “and 
that dog that you met, my friend, was a Jim Dandy 
leopard !” 

“Whoop! Great jumpin’ Jeroosalem! Why didn’t I 
know it? I’d er ketched him fer you-uns as slick as er 
whistle! A leopard! Thunderation ! An’ me a nat’ral 
borned hunter !” 

The disgust in the man’s tones was thoroughly genuine. 
There was not a trace of fear in his words, only vexation 
at his own stupidity. 

“You are made of the right stuff, old man !” said Walt, 
enthusiastically, “but you’ll get a whack at that leopard 
to-morrow, if you want it.” 

“Want it!” cried the man. “Why, it’s ther chanct of 


268 


The Giant and the Tiger. 

er lifetime! A genooine live leepard and tiger in ther 
woods of West Virginy, an’ Coon Thrasser not ter hev 
his fling ter pepper ther critters ! Good-by, you-uns ! I’m 
after thet thar tager ! Daylight an’ dark is ther same ter 
Coon Thrasser! If thet thar leepard is still erlive I main- 
tain I’ll git ther beast afore mornin’ !” 

He had sprung to his feet and started for the moun- 
tains with one hand on a knife and the other clutching his 
rifle. 

“A blood-thirsty old chap, that,” whispered the en- 
gineer to Burt Wister. 

“A double rip-snorter!” was the quick response. “I’d 
ruther be in ther rear when ther giant pulls ther trigger. 
It’s good-by to ther leopard, and don’t you forgit it !” 

“Hold on, Coon !” called Phil, starting after the fel- 
low. “How much help do you want to round up the 

beast? You understand, of course, that I don’t want to 

kill him.” 

“Thet’s so !” said the man, in a disappointed voice. “I 
clean forgot thet this hyar was a circus. I ’low I’d like 
fust rate to draw a trigger on ther critter, but I’ll ketch 
him alive and fetch him back to you-uns.” 

“What, don’t you wish any help?” asked the young 
showman, in surprise. 

The giant drew himself up to his lofty stature. 

“Now, fa’r an’ squar’, do I look’s if I needed it?” he 
asked, good-naturedly. “You-uns kin come erlong ’f yer 
wants to, but tain’t nec’s’ry thet ye sh’d. Coon Thrasser’d 
go hang hisself if he c’uldn’t ketch er lerpard, still if yer 


The Giant and the Tiger. 269 

kin stan’ ther trudgin’, I’ll be perdigious glad ter tote 
yer.” 

“That settles it. I’m going — with your permission, 
Rush !” said Walt, quickly. 

“And I’d like a hand in it, too, Mr. Rushington,” spoke 
up one of the keepers. 

In less than five minutes the party was made up, the 
mountaineer., Walt, Joe Dillon and two keepers. 

“You’ll have to use your pistols,” said Phil, a little 
anxiously. Then he moved close to his chum and whis- 
pered in his ear: 

“Catch the leopard if you can, Walt, for he’s a valuable 
beast, but by all means look out that you don’t lose the 
giant.” 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 


A THRILLING SCENE. 

As soon as the hunting party was off, Phil took the 
girls back to the stalled train, leaving Philips in charge at 
the scene of disaster. 

It was too dangerous an experiment to try and remove 
any of the animals from the wrecked cars by no other 
light than the flaring torches, and further, they had no 
other accommodations for the beasts, so they would have 
to stay as they were until the cars could be righted. 

“Pve heard of circuses before,” said Isabel, as she 
trudged back along the ties, holding as tightly to Rush’s 
arm as she could, “but this seems to be a new variety! 
It’s the first exhibition-in-sections I ever attended ! 
Really, Phil, you can consider yourself a wonderful show- 
man ! Not every one can present such a bill of attrac- 
tions !” 

“It’s a pity there’s no audience at either of my side 
shows,” said Phil, laughing, “for my tiger hunt in the 
mountains is a very realistic affair! Almost too realistic 
to be exactly comfortable !” 

“And the coon wid the broken leg bates the boxin’ kan- 
garoo for a frake,” said Mamie, laughing. “Shure, we 
doctored him up to bate the band, but it’s groanin’ he was 
wid his face as pale as a ghost. Faith, a white-faced 
nigger he is, Rushy, me b’y, and if that isn’t a cooriosity, 
bad luck to me intelligence !” 


A Thrilling Scene. 271 

“I’ll be glad when we get him into custody and a hos- 
pital,” said Phil, anxiously, “for, bad as he is, I can’t 
help pitying him. I’m sure he was only a dupe, and the 
real miscreants have escaped us.” 

“Are you sure that' big fellow wasn’t one of them ?” 
asked Zara, quickly. 

“I don’t think so,” said our hero. “I sounded him 
pretty thoroughly. However, if he was one of the rascals 
he’s a mighty clever one, for he has not only made me lose 
my animals, but he has walked off with my men. A pretty 
joke on me if it is true,” he added, sourly. 

“Shure, then, it’s Walt that’ll tak’ care of himsilf,” said 
Mamie, reassuringly. “He’s brave enough whin he’s in 
the prisince of danger, but the glance of a girl’s eye sets 
his hear-rt to palpitatin’ till he’s that wake in the knees 
he’s as useless as a punkin !” 

“You have it in for Walt, all right, Mamie,” laughed 
Phil. “You couldn’t hate him worse if he was your mortal 
enemy !” 

Mamie tossed her head so airily that she stubbed her 
toe in the darkness, and if Rush had not grabbed her she 
would probably have fallen. 

“ ‘Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit 
before a fall,’ ” quoted Phil, as he set her on her feet and 
put one arm around her. 

“If that pert little nose of yours hadn’t gone up in the 
air just then, Mamie, you wouldn’t have hurt your foot! 
I hope it will be a warning to you.” 

“A war-r-ning, is it?” said Mamie, loftily. “Well, thin, 
let me tell ye, Rushy, it’s warnin’s that I’ve had from the 


2J2 


A Thrilling Scene. 


horn of me birth, for me nose was put on me face that 
way, and the clothespin isn’t made that would lower the 
tilt of it!” 

They had reached the stalled cars now, and were safely 
put aboard, and then Phil took a hasty look at the other 
animals, coming back to where his prisoner was as soon 
as he found everything satisfactory. 

“Pie’s asleep at last,” said the keeper, who was guarding 
the fellow. “He hasn’t spoken a word since we put him 
here, Mr. Rushington. I believe the fellow is half scared 
out of his senses.” 

“If he will only get scared bad enough to tell who his 
pals were it would save me a lot of trouble,” was Phil’s 
only answer. 

The girls had cuddled down in their seats and were try- 
ing to get a wink of sleep, so Phil went out and walked 
slowly past the cages. 

At the rear of the train he came upon a group of bare- 
back riders and gymnasts, and as he walked up to them 
one of them spoke to him. 

“How are the animals in the wreck getting on, Mr. 
Rushington? We were just saying it must be mighty un- 
pleasant for them in those topsy-turvy cages!” 

“Well, they have a little the best of the deal, I think,” 
said Phil. “They know where they are, and the rest of us 
don’t ! Still, they are not very comfortable, and I’m sorry 
for them.” 

“This is a circus and a half,” laughed one of the men. 
“I doubt if Barnum ever had anything like it.” 

Phil told them about the mountaineer, and the tiger 


A Thrilling Scene. 


273 


and leopard hunt that was now in progress, and it in- 
creased his anxiety a good deal to see how they took it. 

“It’s a trick, I’ll bet!” 

“Hope the boys don’t get hurt!” 

“I’d like to have seen Mr. ‘Coon Thrasser,’ he must be 
a dandy! So you’ve given him a job to play giant, Mr. 
Rushington. Well, I hope he don’t play the traitor and 
lead our boys into trouble. There are lots of empty coal 
pits up there in the mountains, to say nothing of the ones 
that are red hot and sizzling !” 

“I may have taken chances in letting them go,” said 
our hero, anxiously, “but the fellow seemed so honest that 
I felt sure I could trust him. I wish, now, I had let the old 
tiger go to blazes !” 

“What’s the use in ‘crossing bridges before you come to 
them ?’ ” said one of the others. “As like as not the fellow 
was all right! Time enough to say he wasn’t when we 
prove it, eh, Rushington?” 

“I hope that will not be too late.” 

Just then the dim echo of a rifle shot was wafted to their 
ears. 

“Can’t be possible that they’ve found the tiger!” cried 
one of the men as they all sprang to their feet. 

Five minutes passed, still they all stood and listened 
intently. 

Suddenly Walt Arkwright’s voice was heard by them 
all, coming from what seemed to be a great distance up 
the mountain. 

“Fire ! fire ! Look out for the fire !” he yelled. 

He had made a megaphone of his hands and shouted 


274 A Thrilling Scene. 

with all his might, still his voice sounded as weird as 
though it belonged to some goblin. 

The next instant the entire group held its breath with 
horror, for a great tongue of flame had suddenly sprun 
up on the mountain and was rushing toward them, lickin 
up all before it. 


buo bjo 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 


THE “NIGGER'S” CONFESSION. 

Phil’s first thought was for his animals, but there was 
little use in thinking. 

If the fire ever reached them he would be powerless to 
save them. 

In less than five minutes every person on the stalled 
train had seen the blaze, and two or three pistol shots 
from the direction of the wreck were sufficient for the 
young showman to understand that the other “section” of 
the show had discovered it also. 

It was a magnificent spectacle, but Phil was in no 
mood to enjoy it, for if the flames ever reached the edge 
of the railroad bed they would sweep over it like a flood, 
devouring everything before it. 

He began to feel as if his venture in the circus business 
was coming to an untimely end, but this was not what 
was causing him the most uneasiness. 

When the fire came near enough, the animals would 
stampede, and there was no telling what would be the re- 
sult. A lot of suffering, shrieking animals would certainly 
drive him mad, but to turn them loose to seek safety the 
best they could would be to endanger the lives of the en- 
tire population of the country. 

For the space of five minutes after Walt’s warning was 
heard there was hardly a man who could think or act 
wisely. 


276 The “Nigger’s” Confession. 

There was absolutely nothing that any one could do, 
only leave the animals to their fate and fly from the dan- 
ger that was coming so swiftly. 

Still, not one even dreamed yet of deserting the train. 
There was not a man in Phil’s employ but what was loyal 
to his duties. 

“Well, boys, this is a poser,” said Phil, when he got his 
breath. “The fire is coming, and it is coming fast, and not 
a drop of water to be found in the vicinity.” 

“If the wind would only change,” said one of the riders, 
quickly. “It’s been wavering for some time. Perhaps it 
will turn in time.” 

“Where do you suppose Arkwright was?” asked an- 
other of the men. “Heaven help him if he is running 
from that conflagration !” 

Mamie stuck her head of the window at just that 
minute. 

“Is it foirewor-r-ks ye are having, Rushy?” she began, 
rather sleepily, then, as she caught sight of the burning 
mountains, she gave a genuine Irish howl of terror. 

“The howly saints presarve us ! The world is on fire !” 
she yelled. “Hivin help the tiger and the leopard and 
Walt and the rist of them, for sure it is the breath of the 
divil himself that do be lightin’ up the mountain !” 

“Hush, Mamie ! Don’t wake up the nigger !” cried 
Isabel, sharply. “Let the poor fellow sleep till the fire is 
upon him, it will be better than watching it coming at you 
and realizing that you have only one leg to run on !” 

But the first shriek of alarm had aroused the prisoner, 


The “Nigger’s” Confession. 277 

and as Phil sprang into the car the fellow sat up straight 
and stared at him. 

“Look out, there! Do you see what is coming?” asked 
our hero, sternly, as he pointed through the window to the 
blazing mountain. “Now, see here, you black scamp, 111 
not try to save you unless you tell me honestly who it was 
that wrecked my train this evening.” 

The prisoner's teeth chattered so he could hardly speak, 
but another glance at the illumination made him break his 
silence. 

“Lawd sabe me, I didn’ do it ’cept to draw de spikes,” 
he whimpered. “Fo’ de Lawd, dat’s all I done. ’Twas 
Hank Doe dat done it !” 

“And who is Hank Doe?” asked Rushington, sternly. 

The negro rolled his eyeballs frightfully, and clutched at 
his wool as he spoke, but the fire had unnerved him, so 
that he could not conceal anything. 

“Moonshiner. Big fellar,” he muttered, incoherently. 
“He done it ’spressly ter git his han’s on one ob yo’ 
beasts ! T’ink yo' offer reward sho’ ’nuff, if he clean out 
wif dat yah boxin’ critter !” 

“I see,” said the young showman, with fury in his 
eves. “He planned to get my kangaroo. Well, he's got 
the tiger instead, as well as the leopard! I wish him 
luck, the miserable scoundrel !” 

“Watch him, Jim,” he said, shortly, to the keeper, who 
still sat at his post. “I’ll warn you in time if we have to 
run for it, but meanwhile he’s important. I need him to 
identify the wrecker !” 


278 The “Nigger’s” Confession. 

When Phil reached the ground again he found that 
things had changed a little. 

For some reason or other, the fire had spread more to 
the east, which was just opposite to the way it had been 
going. 

“Looks as if it had been cut off with a knife,” said one 
of the trainers. “I could almost see when it stopped com- 
ing this way — seemed to hesitate all of a sudden and then 
to amble off sideways!” 

“Has the wind changed?” asked Rush, trying to peer 
through the darkness. 

“She's veered a little,” spoke up one of the riders ; “but 
it is my opinion that some one has cut a break up there, 
and if that is so, it is some one who is trying to protect 
the circus property:” 

“Then it must be Walt,” said Rush, more cheerfully, 
“and if Walt is still on deck I don’t worry about the giant.” 

“We made you suspicious by our remarks, didn’t we, 
Mr. Rushington?” asked one of the men. “Well, it’s as 
like as not we are all mistaken. There’s all kinds and 
sorts of men in those hills, good ones and bad ones.” 

“But the nigger has confessed,” said Phil, with a sigh. 
“He says it was a big fellow who wrecked the train, and 
this ‘Coon Thrasser,’ as I told you, is next door to a 
giant.” 

“That looks bad, but see ! They’ve got the best of the 
blaze !” cried the trainer, quickly. “It’s skedaddling east 
at a rattling good gait ! At that rate of speed, it’ll be in 
Cuby by mornin’!” 

“Oh, it will strike a river or two between here and 


The “Nigger’s” Confession. 279 

there, I’m thankful to say,” laughed Phil, and just then 
they all heard another report of a rifle. 

The next moment a group of figures appeared upon a 
crest of a hill, and they were so plainly outlined by the 
fire that our hero recognized them instantly. 

“We are coming!” yelled Walt, through his improvised 
megaphone, “and we’ve caught big game, too, only it 
isn’t the tiger !” 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 


THE WRECKING TRAIN. 

As soon as the young showman realized that they were 
safe he threw his hat up in the air, and even the girls took 
part in the rousing cheer that followed. 

No one really knew what a strain those few moments of 
anxiety had put upon the young showman while his per- 
formers and animals were in such danger. 

“One of you scoot down the track and see how the 
others are getting on,” he said to the group about him, 
“and if there is anything worth telling they shall hear it as 
soon as possible.” 

One of the riders started off, after first securing a torch, 
and then the others waited anxiously for another message 
from Arkwright. 

“There they come !” shouted Phil, as the group of fig- 
ures came groping out of the bushes about six yards below 
where they were waiting. 

“Hello! Everybody all right? Had a scare, Til bet! 
Wasn’t it grand, though, until we turned it and sent it 
scooting in another direction !” 

Walt yelled the words before he was fairly clear of the 
bushes, and Phil only waited to see the head of Coon 
Thrasser before he started off down the track to meet 
them. 

“I thought you were a-goner, Walt, to say nothing of 
ourselves ! But what did you mean by saying you’d caught 


28 i 


The Wrecking Train. 

big game? It can’t be possible that you’ve captured 
either the leopard or the tiger!” 

“We’ve bagged a worse beast than either of these!” 
cried Walt, again. “We’ve nabbed the sinner that 
wrecked the train ! Caught him skulking around setting 
fire to the bushes !” 

“He must be crazy,” said Phil, and then he caught sight 
of him. The mountaineer, Coon Thrasser, was fairly 
dragging him through the bushes. 

“He’s erbout tuckered out, I reck’n !” bawled Coon, as 
he saw Phil. “He’s hed er thumpin’ through the bushes 
thet’s like ter knock ther bre’th outen him.” 

“Who is he, anyway?” asked our hero, trying to get a 
look at the fellow. 

“He’s one of them tarnal moonshiners,” said Coon, 
angrily, “an’. ’pears ter me he hev got the wuss of his own 
licker! Knocked him ther minute I sot eyes on him — a 
no-account, right-down scallywag, as wouldn’t do a thing 
to you-uns if he hed ther opportunity.” 

“Well, he had it and used it, according to my way of 
thinking,” said Phil; “but what’s his name? That’s what 
I’m after.” 

Coon jerked his victim out onto the railroad track before 
he answered, and as he propped the fellow up, Phil stared 
in astonishment. 

“Why, he’s as big as you are! How the mischief did 
you capture him?” 

“You ought to have seen them! It was a tussle be- 
tween giants, and one of them clean of! his trolley at that !” 
cried Walt, delightedly. 


282 


The Wrecking Train. 


“Sho’ now, you-uns helped er leetle,” said the moun- 
taineer, politely. “When ther feller nearly tuckered me 
out you-uns helped er leetle.” 

“Well, it was mighty little,” broke in Dillon, “for we 
were busy with the fire. That was the liveliest job that 
I ever tackled, Rushington ! Lucky for us there was a 
pretty fair clearing that it had to cross, but if every man 
in the mountains hadn’t turned out with their axes we’d 
have been roasted alive, and so would the whole circus! 
Gee ! But you ought to see that gang up there ! I took 
the liberty of inviting the whole outfit to the show, for 
there was never a braver lot of men in creation, espe- 
cially when we told them that our animals and performers 
were in danger.” 

“I’m glad you did it ! It’s poor enough pay for what 
they did,” said Phil. “I’ll tell the doorman to admit any- 
thing that wears butternut trousers, but, thunder what a 
life to live buried alive in those mountains !” 

“Whar’ll yer hev him, boss?” asked the mountaineer, 
pointing to his prisoner. 

Phil had been examining the man, and found that both 
his arms and legs were pinioned, the latter just loosely 
enough to allow him to stand on them. 

“Is your name Hank Doe?” he asked, as he stared at 
the fellow. 

“Thet’s it, but how’d yer guess it ?” said Coon, quickly. 

“Oh, the nigger has confessed — he got scared when he 
saw the fire. He thought the old Nick was after him, 
and bringing the infernal regions with him.” 

lie watched Hank Doe carefully as he spoke, but there 


The Wrecking Train. 283 

was not a ray of intelligence on the fellow’s brutal fea- 
tures. 

Just then it occurred to Walt what to do with the 
train wrecker. 

“What’s the matter with putting him in the leopard’s 
cage?” he asked. It’s true there’s a hyena in the other 
end, but that doesn’t matter.” 

“It’s rough on the hyena,” said Dillon, dryly. “How- 
ever, he can’t see over the partition, and what he don’t 
know won’t hurt him.” 

“If the cage was right side up, I’d do it in a minute,” 
said Phil ; “but as it is, I guess we had better tie him to a 
tree — that birch down by the wreck, where half of our 
force can watch him.” 

All of the men went back to the stalled cars except 
Walt, Dillon and the giant, with the prisoner between 
them, who followed Phil down the track to the other 
division of the circus. 

They were greeted with a cheer the moment they came 
in sight, and another followed Phil’s explanation of the 
situation. 

The glow in the sky was dying out now, but there was 
still enough left to keep them a little apprehensive. 

“Did you get a squint at the tiger ?” asked Philips. 

“I think we did, just a squint, but I’m not sure,” an- 
swered Walt. “Something came flying through the 
bushes like the tail of a comet just as the fire broke out, 
but the giant here had just tackled his quarry, and the 
rest of us were too rattled to even remember what we 
were there for.” 


284 


The Wrecking Train. 


“You are a dandy lot of hunters/’ said the conductor, 
laughing. “Still, if I’d have been there myself I wouldn’t 
have done any better.” 

“I’d er been runnin’ yet,” said Burt Wister, solemnly. 
“Ther tail of er comet would not er been in it ! Doin’ 
tricks is one thing an’ tiger huntin’s anudder ! Thet’s er 
trick thet ain’t in my line, an’ I kin do mos’ anything.” 

“Oh, but you’ll all have to fall in line and hunt the 
tiger to-morrow ! We must have him, boys ! It queers 
the show to lose him !” exclaimed our hero. 

“Den I quits der job ter-night, boss,” said Wister, 
laughing. “Gimme my sal’ry, boss, an’ I'll sample ther 
walkin’.” 

“No danger of your leaving us that way, Wister,” 
laughed Phil. “It would take something more than a tiger 
to make you nervous.” 

“Coon” had tied his prisoner to the stunted birch and 
squatted down on the end of a tie, where he could keep 
his eye on him. 

It was pearly daylight now, and the whole crowd was 
yawning, for not one of them had had a wink of sleep, and 
not a mouthful to eat except a few left-over sandwiches 
and some of the peanuts that by right belonged to the 
elephants. 

At just five o’clock Phil heard the wrecking train com- 
ing, and in spite of their heavy eyelids the men all roused 
themselves for action. 

Only a dull, red glow in the far east told that the fire 
was still burning, but the danger to them was past. It 
could not get back to them. 


The Wrecking Train. 285 

The men on the train were a little surprised when they 
saw what they had to do, but they took it good-naturedly, 
and did not seem to be alarmed at the animals being loose. 

The first thing they did was to give all hands some 
breakfast, which was more than welcome to the stranded 
company. 

In a very short time the cages were righted and the 
carpenters had them patched so that there would be no 
more runaways. 

Then they were promptly “jacked up,” and the trucks 
swung over on to the track, and soon the young showman 
was able to get his whole train together. 

“Now, then, hurrah for the tiger hunt !” he cried, when 
he saw that everything was progressing satisfactorily. 
“Here’s a chance to hunt big game, boys, in the mountains 
of West Virginia!” 

“Or let the big game hunt us,” said Walt, a trifle grimly. 
“Oh, we’re a dandy lot of ‘tenderfeet’ to be hunting a tiger. 
Still, I’m always ready to make a martyr of myself, and 
I’ll agree to let the tiger chew on me if he gets us cor- 
nered ; only, Rush, dear Rush, do please see that my grave 
is kept shady!” 

Walt tried to weep, but was not successful. 

“There won’t be any grave if he eats you,” remarked 
our hero, amiably. “You’ll be buried in the eternal ob- 
livion of that feline’s anatomy without so much as a head- 
stone to mark your resting place.” 

“Faith, it’s little rist ye’ll be afther gettin’ in the cray- 
ther’s stummick,” said Mamie, merrily. “Sure the taste 


286 


The Wrecking Train. 


av ye will give him dyspepsia, Walter, and he’ll be that 
onaisy that ye’ll be afther dyin’ intoirely !” 

“I hope I shall, I am sure, if it comes to that,” said Walt, 
devoutly; “but as you all seem to feel so badly about it, 
I guess I’ll repent of my generosity. I’ll just make for 
the nearest tree when I see his joblots and let him gorge 
on somebody who won’t leave so many mourners.” 

“Bless the b’y, he’s that considerate that it’s painful,” 
laughed Mamie, “but go ahn, Rushy, and tell us what ye 
do be plannin’ !” 

“Yes, Phil, do tell us,” urged Isabel, anxiously. “I am 
just worried to death about that tiger! Oh, suppose it 
should really eat up some one up there in those moun- 
tains !” 

“That is exactly what I am going to try to prevent,” 
said Phil, setting his teeth. “The creature’s escape has 
nearly made me gray-headed. If any one should be killed, 
I would never get over it, and yet I am not a particle to 
blame for the whole affair !” 

“Indeed, you are not,” said Isabel, firmly. “It was no 
fault of yours that the train was wrecked! You are as 
cautious as any one ever was, and we all know it.” 

“Indeed we do,” spoke' up Dillon, promptly. “Why, if 
Rush had had half a show he would have stopped that 
tiger ! He’d have pulled him back by the tail rather than 
have let him go loose to do any damage !” 

“I believe I would,” said our hero, with a smile. “I 
never think of myself when my animals are loose. I am 
too interested in thinking about the danger to others.” 

“Faith, ye’ve proved that same over and over, Rushy,” 


The Wrecking Train. 287 

said Mamie, with a tender glance. “Whin the lion got 
away and wint on a rampage through the city, sure ye put 
the whole polace force to shame wid yer gallant actions !” 

“They were a lot of cowards,” said Phil, blushing a lit- 
tle. “They were all right until they heard Antony roar, 
and then they flunked like a lot of schoolboys, the bloom- 
ing idiots !” 

“And surely no one could have been braver than you 
were, Phil, when you stopped the ‘battle royal/ ” added 
Isabel, sweetly. 

“Oh, you girls make too much of my exploits,” laughed 
Phil. “You think I’m a hero, and I’m not a little bit !” 

“Ye’ve showed yersilf a hero over and over again, 
Rushy, dear,” said Mamie, stoutly. “Sure it’s the royal 
good stuff that ye’re made of, good luck to ye !” 

“Well, I have a chance now to show what I am made 
of,” said the young showman, quietly. “I am going up 
into the mountain with Coon to catch the tiger, and if there 
is to be any danger I mean to take my share of it.” 

“I’m your second, old man,” said Walt, promptly. 
“Whithersoever thou goest I go, Phil Rushington, so just 
bank on that when you get your tiger hunt together !” 

Phil gave him a grateful look, and then went to speak 
to his men. 

In less than five minutes the tiger hunt was organized. 


CHAPTER XL. 


THE TRACK OF THE TIGER. 

Phil left a strong guard to protect the train, which now 
held all his animals as well as the two prisoners, which 
he had determined to take to Hinton, and as he and Walt 
and two cowboys started off, headed by Coon Thrasser, 
the girls stuck their heads out of the window and w r aved 
their handkerchiefs. 

‘Til give your love to your girl if you don’t come back !” 
called Isabel, mischievously, “but hadn’t you better leave 
a lock of your hair? The poor girl will want something 
to weep over besides your picture !” 

“And I’ll comfort Isabel the best I can !” cried Zara, 
tantalizingly, “for there are tears in the corners of her eyes 
this minute, in spite of her twitting you of your other 
sweetheart !” 

“Good luck to ye, Rushy, and may ye bring back the 
tiger, ridin’ his striped back like the king that ye are, wid 
the leopard following loike a lamb at the feet of yer high- 
ness !” yelled Mamie. 

“Great Scott ! What’s got into them ?” said Walt, as 
he heard it. “They must think that you are going to your 
doom, and are trying to give you a good send-off !” 

“ ’Pears like she’s a minxy kind of a gal,” said Coon, 
looking back over his shoulder at Mamie. “She hes a 
tongue in her head as sharp as a pickax, and her eye is 
as keen as er two-aidged razor!” 


The Track of the Tiger. 289 

“Now, what the deuce does he know about a razor?” 
whispered Walt. “Hasn’t seen one in six months, if his 
face is anything to go by !” 

The trainmen were hard at work trying to raise the 
engine, which they promised Phil should be coupled to 
his train on the side track by noon if possible. 

“That gives us the forenoon to catch the balance of our 
menagerie in,” said Phil ; “but if we are not back the train 
must wait. I won’t go on until I have located the 
creatures !” 

“You are paying for our time,” said the conductor, 
laughing. “We don’t mind camping out here now that 
we have something to fill up on.” 

It did not seem any time at all before the hunting party 
was swallowed up in the verdure on the mountains.. 

The fire had swept over one side of the mighty hills, and 
there was still a cloud of smoke to be seen in the distance. 

“I reck’n it hev struck ther Huckermow Creek by this 
time,” said Coon, as he strode along. “ ’Twon’t last long 
arter it tackles ther Huckermow. Thet’s a powerful big 
crick, an’ jest now it’s full ter overflowin’.” 

“Well, I hope it doesn’t do any damage,” said Phil, as 
he forced his way through the bushes. “The sinner that 
lit that fire has got to face a big reckoning; still, I can’t 
help thinking that the man is crazy.” 

“Ef Hank Doe is crazy, then thar’s lots er lunyticks in 
these hyar mount’ns,” said Coon, dryly. “Ther woods is 
full on ’em if thet thar’s ther case. I reck’n now it’s 
nuthin’ but ornery right-down cussedness.” 

“Oh, well, we call that insanity in our country,” laughed 


290 


The Track of the Tiger. 

Walt, and just at that moment something happened that 
was astonishing. 

Coon Thrasser had dropped his rifle, and was down on 
his knees carefully examining some tracks on a bed of 
clay that seemed to zigzag some distance up the mountain. 

“Thar’s you-uns beast,” he said, pointing to the tracks. 

Phil bent down and looked at them, and instantly recog- 
nized the footprints of the tiger. 

“Well, if you ain’t a corker at hitting a trail !” he ex- 
claimed. “Now, how in the world did you know that the 
beast would come in this direction ?” 

“Couldn’t go nowhar’s else,” was the hunter’s prompt 
answer. “Leastwise, tain’t nat’ral thet her beast would 
stay in ther way of ther fire, not when thar were nothin’ 
ter hender a good squar’ lead in this hyar direction !” 

The party scrambled on, finding it no easy matter to 
follow their guide, and in a little while the mountaineer 
stopped and without turning his head gave them a signal 
to be cautious. 

“Hold on er bit, you-uns,” he called over his shoulder. 
“See thet thar pile of bresh jest ahead? Waal, it’s been 
nigh clawed ter bits an’ thar’s a coal pit under it.” 

The inexperienced hunters stared at each other a little, 
but it suddenly occurred to Phil what the fellow meant. 

“You mean the tiger’s been trapped!” he called out, 
softly. “Good heavens, man, I hope the pit isn’t burning !” 

Coon shook his head, and then dropped suddenly on all 
fours, creeping carefully up to the monstrous pile of 
bushes and branches. 


291 


The Track of the Tiger. 

A moment later he began tossing them aside as though 
they were feathers. Then he suddenly bent lower and 
seemed to peer into a hole in the earth, and a whoop 
of victory fairly awoke the echoes. 

“Ther feller thet planned thet thar warn’t no pesky 
fool!” he cried, hilariously; “he knowed er thing er two 
erbout tagers, he did ! Fust he baited ther hole with ther 
ch’icest meat on ther mount’in and then he sot fire to 
ther bresh to turn ther beast this way, well knowin’ thar 
warn’t no chance ter escape to ther coal pits !” 

“Does that mean that the tiger is in there ?” asked Phil, 
excitedly. 

The next second he was peering down through a nar- 
row opening, and there glaring up at him from a twenty- 
foot black hole was nothing more nor less than the run- 
away tiger. 

“Well, that’s one way to catch a tiger, I declare,” said 
the young showman. “You bet he had to work fast after 
he wrecked the train, for how in thunder did he know 
that we were going to lose the beast or that he would be 
certain sure to take to the mountains ?” 

“I ’low it war quick work,” said the man, who was still 
staring down at the beast, “but it’s no end likely thet he 
was scart arter he saw the tager, an’ ther trap was an 
arter-thought, as well’s ther conflagration !” 

“Well, there’s no time to figure it out now,” said our 
hero. “We are up against a tough proposition, for we’ve 
got to plan how to capture the creature !” 

“I kin help you-uns thar,” said the mountaineer, wink- 


292 The Track of the Tiger. 

ing. “J est you’uns drop a couple o’ them thar slipnooses 
'round ther critter an’ choke off his wind for erbout er 
minute an’ I’ll muzzle him so tight thet he’ll think he hev 
got ther lockjaw. Then we’ll yank him up an’ plump him 
full er moonshine.” 


CHAPTER XLI. 


PHIL SETTLES AN OLD SCORE. 

But the young showman was hardly ready for such a 
novel experiment, although he readily appreciated the 
giant’s sense of humor. 

He directed the men to pile some more big branches 
over the pit, so that there would be no possibility of the 
tiger’s escaping. 

“Isn’t there any other way to get up here?” he asked, 
anxiously. 

Coon nodded his head. 

“Yer mout go ’roun’ by ther Huckermoor bend and by 
cuttin’ a lettle bresh come purty nigh ther coal pit.” 

“Then I’ll send a cage for him later,” said the young 
showman, decidedly, “and I’ll depend on you, Coon, to 
guide it to the spot. You have only to name your price 
and I will pay it.” 

The big man drew himself up with offended pride. 

“It ud cost you-uns mo’ ter keep me away,” he said, 
quickly. “Ther ain’t ergoin’ ter be no tager hunt on these 
hyar mount’ins ’thout Coon Thrasser perticerpates, not ef 
he knows it !” 

“All right, then, Coon, and you shall have a profes- 
sional tiger catcher with you,” said Phil. “It means three 
or four days without a tiger and a lot of trouble, but it’s 
less expensive than buying a new animal.” 

“Then we turn our attention as well as our pistols in 


294 


Phil Settles an Old Score. 


the direction of the leopard, do we, Rush?” asked Walt. 
“His royal joblots the tiger is safe at present. No danger 
of his trying to jump through that roof of bushes.” 

“No, he’s safe, thanks to Hank Doe,” said Phil, and 
just at that minute he heard a crackling in the bushes. 

“The babes in the woods, and twins at that,” muttered 
Walt, as he nudged our hero with his elbow. 

Phil looked around just in time to see Coon nodding to 
two mountaineers, whose faces were as black as coal, and 
who looked so much alike in their outlandish garments 
that he did not blame Walt for his involuntary exclama- 
tion. 

“Is thet you-uns, Coon Thrasser?” began one of the 
men, “fer ef ’tis I hev sumthin’ ter tell thet twill s’prise 
ther life outen yer !” 

“Let er drive !” said Coon, with an expectant flash in 
his eyes. 

“Mebbe yer fr’en’s are hunters, too, an’ mebbe they’d 
like ter hear it,” said the man, looking at Phil and his 
party curiously. 

“We would, indeed,” spoke up our hero, politely. “Only 
we don’t happen to be hunters. We belong to the circus 
that you helped to save last evening.” 

“Ther Great Jumpin’ Johosherphat ! Yo’ doan’ mean 
it!” cried the man, “then it’s goshermighty likely as how 
we-uns killed one of yer critters !” 

“A leopard ?” asked Rush, quickly. “An animal with a 
dark, spotted skin?” 

“Erbout ther size of er dog?” asked the other man, 
quickly. 


Phil Settles an Old Score. 


295 


“The size of some dogs, yes,” said Rush, excitedly. “I 
don’t blame you for killing it, of course, but I’m sorry 
to lose him.” 

“We-uns is sorry, too, ef he is valuable,” said one of the 
men, “but when I see him er clawin’ an’ ’er spittin’ on ther 
limb of er tree I jest blazed erway at him. I couldn’t seem 
ter help it!” 

“Naturally,” said Phil. “Well, then, that is settled, 
boys. The men can have the leopard skin to pay for their 
trouble, and there’s nothing to be done now but go back to 
the train and make our arrangements for recapturing the 
tiger.” 

At the mention of the word “tiger” the men looked 
sharply at each other, and Coon explained the whole mat- 
ter while he gave them a peep at the creature. 

“Thet thar Hank Doe is onreliable,” said one of the 
men when Coon finished. “Been er guzzlin’ poor licker 
tell he’s gone in ther head, though I ’low thet’s no excuse 
fer sech low-lived bedevilment.” 

“We-uns will feed ther tager fer you-uns,” said the 
other man, promptly. “Er lot er rabbits will make him 
like er log so thet by ther time yer come fer him he won’t 
make no trouble.” 

“Well, just sprinkle a little of this on each rabbit, 
please,” said Phil, quickly, as he drew a bottle of lauda- 
num from his pocket; “but remember and don’t drink it 
yourselves, for it will kill you quicker than moonshine.” 

He gave them some money, also, and then the party 
started back, and when they reached the railroad track, 


296 Phil Settles an Old Score. 

sure enough there was their engine standing safely on the 
rails, with steam up ready for starting. 

Four hours later the circus train drew into Hinton, 
West Virginia, and only a short time later the tents were 
erected. 

The first thing Phil did was to put his prisoners in cus- 
tody, then he sent back a cage with horses, trainers and 
the tiger hunter, in company with Coon Thrasser, to cap- 
ture the tiger. 

After that he wrote a letter to the president of the road, 
explaining the accident in every detail. 

The very next train that came in brought him a lot of 
letters, among which was a very jolly one from his old 
favorite, Dora Warren. 

Phil slipped it into his pocket, after reading it twice, 
and then went about his business as calmly as though there 
was no such thing as pretty girls in existence. 

But in spite of his calmness, Phil was unusually happy, 
for both Dora and her brother had promised to come and 
stay with the show at the very next town that they were 
booked for. 

The news of his accident on the road had spread like 
wildfire, as well as the news of the runaway tiger, so our 
hero found that his show was extremely well advertised, 
and felt sure of doing a good week’s business. 

While Coon was after the tiger, Phil improved his time, 
and soon every fence and ash barrel in the town, as well 
as many of the trees, blossomed out in glaring posters with 
this startling invitation in big letters : 


Phil Settles an Old Score. 


297 

“Come and see the Giant and the Runaway Tiger ! 
They will both be in the Ring on Friday Evening.” 

When Phil got word that the tiger was coming, he and 
Burt Wister started down the main street to make some 
final arrangements with the mayor for having the circus 
band go to meet it, and just as they turned a corner they 
came suddenly upon a man whom Phil recognized at once. 
He was the conductor of the freight train who had re- 
fused to help him. 

“Blast my eyes ef it ain’t ‘Kick’ Dalfer!” said Wister, 
when he caught sight of him. “T’ought I rec’g’nized him 
t’other night! W’y, he’s ther meanest cuss in ther coun- 
try ! He’s ther yaller-skinned gerloot wot’s wanted in St. 
Louis> fer workin’ ther double an’ slide, an’ in New Or- 
le’ns fer tryin’ ter shove ther queer ! W’y, boss, he’s ther 
meanest ‘joey’ thet ever got kicked outen er ring! Thet’s 
how he got his name, gittin’ kicked out so of’n. He quit 
ther biz a year ago, an’ he’s sore on ther purfesh wid er 
mighty good reas’n!” 

“Well, I’ll make him sorer,” said Phil, under his breath, 
as he stepped deliberately in front of the fellow. “Glad 
to see you again, you cur!” said he, glaring at him, fur- 
iously. “I’m Mr. Phil Rushington, the owner of the circus 
whose cars were wrecked on the C. & O. the other night ! 
Perhaps you remember how you refused to help me !” 

“I remember how you held up my train, you young scal- 
lywag,” sneered the man, “and I’ve a mind to lick you 
now for your impudent actions.” 

“Don’t change your mind. Just go ahead and try it !” 


298 


Phil Settles an Old Score. 


said Phil, quickly. ‘Tve written to the president of the 
road, and I’ll see that you lose your position/’ 

Before the words were fairly out of his mouth the fellow 
made a lunge at him, but Phil dodged the blow, and then 
let out a “left hander.” 

The next second the man was sprawling over the side- 
walk. 


CHAPTER XLII. 


THE RUNAWAY TIGER. 

“Thet was a good un, boss ! Gee ! but you’re a dandy 
scrapper ! Bet er cold hard plunk he don’t know what hit 
him !” 

Burt Wister stood looking down admiringly at the pros- 
trate conductor. He was not much of a pugilist himself, 
but he knew good boxing when he saw it. 

“Maybe he thinks he can whip me now,’’ said Phil, 
laughing; “but he doesn’t seem inclined to try it, I ob- 
serve. Now the question is, shall I stand him up or just 
leave him as a warning.” 

“Oh, he’s er cornin’ ter himself all right, boss,” said 
Wister, as the man opened his eyes. “Better jes’ leave 
your card, so he’ll know where ter find yer. He might 
take it inter his head ter demand satisfaction.” 

“I fancy he’s had it,” said Phil, glancing sternly at the 
fellow. “How about that, you bully? Do you still think 
you can whip me?” 

A string of imprecations followed this question, and the 
conductor rose slowly to his feet and pulled himself to- 
gether. 

“You’re a little upstart, Phil Rushington,” he muttered, 
with an oath, “but I’ll find a way of squarin’ my account 
with you later! It’s a cold day when this chicken forgets 
an enemy !” 

“Oh, remember me, by all means,” said Phil, with a 


300 The Runaway Tiger. 

laugh. “I am always delighted to make a lasting impres- 
sion.” 

“You made it all right, boss,” said Burt YVister, chuc- 
kling. “He’s got a lump on his head that’ll stay by him a 
week, and that clip under the ear was a reg’lar sockdol- 
liger !” 

“I meant it should be,” said our hero, as the conductor 
shuffled down the street. “I owed him that one, and I 
paid it with interest.” 

“Next time he meets you he’ll know yer,” said YVister, 
still chuckling, “an’ I reck’n he’ll be wuss skeered of yer 
than he wuz of ther tiger.” 

“He’ll have more reason to be,” said Phil, quietly, and 
then they both walked on. It was the last our hero saw of 
the ugly conductor for some time. 

The arrival of the tiger was a great success. 

Just as it reached the outskirts of the town the cage, 
with the six horses, was met by Phil’s brass band and a 
couple of cowboys on the backs of bronchos. 

As they marched up the main street to the tents the 
cowboys rode ahead ; then came the band, playing “See the 
Conquering Hero Comes,” with Coon Thrasser, his head 
very high in the air, striding along in front of the cage 
which held the runaway. 

This impromptu parade was a great success, for every 
small boy in Hinton, as well as many of the adults of both 
sexes, saw and enjoyed it. 

And that night the tent was packed to overflowing, for 
there had a small army of mountaineers found their way 


The Runaway Tiger. 301 

to the grounds, some of whom looked suspiciously like 
the class called “moonshiners.” 

Phil attempted to carry out his usual programme, but in 
less than five minutes after the band stopped playing he 
saw that it was impossible. 

“They won’t have it our way,” he said to Walt, “so we 
may as well give in and let them run things — only they 
can’t have the tiger for a half an hour — he’s so dopey he 
wouldn’t do himself justice.” 

“I’ll tell Mamie to come in and show them some of her 
fancy riding,” said Walt. “She’ll delight their eyes and 
make them forget the tiger.” 

Walt rushed off, and soon the little Irish girl came flying 
into the ring as smiling as though she had anticipated the 
order. 

“Sure, I’d answer a hurry call fer the boss any time at 
all, at all,” she had said to Walt. “It’s not the loikes av 
his owl frind that’ll be afther disapp’intin’ Rushy!” 

“Oh, you girls are all daft over Rush,” Walt answered, 
spitefully. “Any one would think he was the only good- 
looking fellow in creation !” 

“Faith, if his aqual lives it’s not mesilf that has clapped 
eyes on him,” answered Mamie, promptly. “Sure, whin 
Phil Rushington was made the angels flew away wid the 
pattern.” 

Walt’s brow darkened a little at the Irish girl’s chaff. 
He was not jealous of our hero exactly, but sometimes 
he wished he was more like him. 

Mamie was all dressed in green, and there was a big 


302 


The Runaway Tiger. 


bow of green ribbon on her pony’s tail, and she was wav- 
ing a green flag emblazoned with the harp of Erin. 

The crowd stopped howling for the tiger the moment 
they saw her. Her riding was so grotesque that it pleased 
them wonderfully. 

“Great snakes, but she kin ride!” called out one of the 
big mountaineers. “Goshermighty, ef she was borned on 
hossback she couldn’t stick any tighter!” 

Mamie was galloping around the ring, waving her 
emerald flag, when one of the clowns stumbled awkwardly 
in front of her, and at the same time he made a feint to 
offer her an orange. 

In an instant Mamie sprang to her toes and cracked the 
whip viciously. 

“Go ’long wid yez, ye spalspeen!” she shrieked. “How 
dare ye insoolt the Irish Quane, ye dur-r-ty orange man! 
Faith, it's mesilf will set the pony on to yez fer yer im- 
per-dence !” 

She touched the pony with her whip, and then began a 
hot chase around the ring that was very funny. 

The clown started across the sawdust yelling like an In- 
dian, while the pony trotted right behind him with its 
mouth wide open. 

“Go ahn, Jemima ! Swaller him whole, the sinner !” 
cried Mamie, and at every word the trick pony opened his 
mouth a little wider, as if he fully intended to do her bid- 
ding. 

Just as the clown felt the pony’s breath upon the back 
of his neck he fell flat upon the ground and began howling 
for mercy. 


The Runaway Tiger. 


303 


Mamie touched Jemima with her whip and gave a low 
order, and in an instant the little beast put his four feet 
together and bounded over the -clown’s well-padded body. 

“Never touched me !” squealed the clown, as he waddled 
to his feet and stood shaking his fist after the flying pony. 

The mountaineers roared, and every one in the tent 
seemed amused, but in a minute they were shouting again 
for the tiger. 

“Quick ! Chase in the gymnasts ! Keep the ball roll- 
ing !” whispered Phil to Walt. “That miserable beast isn’t 
over his pipe dream yet. You can’t think how disgusted I 
am with that tiger.” 

“Doesn’t realize his position as star performer,” said 
Walt, as he hurried away to fulfill his chum’s orders. The 
troupe of gymnasts came running in, and once more the 
crowd stopped cheering and watched them. 

“They are just like children,” said Rush, as he listened. 
“They are red-hot to see the tiger, but anything amuses 
them, and I mean to postpone my chief attraction until the 
very last minute.” 

The performers were all more or less upset by the 
changes in the programme, but they all took it good- 
naturedly, and did their best to please their audience. 

Isabel Currier made a few flying circuits of the ring, 
and electrified them all by her marvelous riding, and then 
Zara followed so quickly with her wonderful midair feats 
that for a little time there were no more calls for the 
tiger. 


304 


The Runaway Tiger. 


Phil knew that this was only “the lull before the storm,” 
so he ran out to the animal tent to see if everything was 
ready. 

He was standing talking to Coon Thrasser when a 
Western Union messenger boy came up to him. 

“Be you Rushin’ton of the circus ?” asked the boy, with 
one eye on the elephants. 

“That’s my name,” answered Rush, “have you any- 
thing for me?” 

The boy held up two telegrams, still staring at the ele- 
phants. 

“Want to see the show?” asked Phil, looking down at 
him kindly. 

“You bet,” said the boy. “Last time I seen a circus I 
nearly died. Do you have real, genooine Injuns an’ bears 
an’ hyenas, Mr. Rushin’ton?” 

Phil scribbled his name in the boy’s book, and then 
pulled a ticket out of his pocket. 

“Get an afternoon off and come in and see,” he said, 
pleasantly, as he patted the boy’s shoulder. 

“You’re a brick!” remarked the urchin, giving him a 
grateful glance. “I heard a feller sayin’ as how he was 
goin’ ter lick you, but, jiminy, I’d like ter see him do it!” 

“Who was he ?” asked our hero, as he turned to go back 
to the tent. 

“Dun’no,” remarked the boy. “It was down at ther 
station. But he can’t do it, Mr. Rushington, so don’t you 
bother about him!” 


305 


The Runaway Tiger. 

The boy darted out of the tent, leaving Phil a little bit 
puzzled, but there was no time then to guess any conun- 
drums. 

As he walked along he opened the first envelope and 
read the message. 

“Have just heard of the tiger’s escapade. Take my ad- 
vice, Rush, and raise his salary.” 

“That’s from Dora,” laughed Rush, as he glanced at the 
initials. Then he put it in his pocket and opened the other. 

“Whew ! what an honor ! A message from the Gover- 
nor of West Virginia !” he exclaimed aloud. “His excel- 
lency is anxious to have me account for my ‘misde- 
meanor !’ ” 

Walt was coming toward him, and Phil hurried him a 
bit by hastening his steps and waving the telegram. 

“Quick, Rush ! They won’t wait any longer for the 
tiger!” began Walt, then he suddenly stopped short and 
asked a question. 

“What the mischief has broke now?” 

Phil smiled a little grimly and handed him the mes- 
sage. 

“I’m in it for fair this trip,” he said, briefly. “The Gov- 
ernor of this State has done me the honor to wire me. He 
wishes to know what I mean by distributing my ‘zoo’ all 
over ‘his excellency’s mountains.’ ” 

“Humph ! he’s behind the times ! Why didn’t he hollar 
before!” laughed Walt. “It’s a fine time to find fault 
when we have captured the beast and added a page to the 
history of this blooming old mountain !” 


306 The Runaway Tiger. 

“By Jove! that is so! We’ve fairly boomed the State! 
Given it a free ‘ad,’ as you might say, and yet he isn’t 
grateful ! Why, I’ll be willing to bet that the natives of 
West Virginia will be telling that tale a hundred years 
from now of how a leopard and a tiger were caught in the 
mountains !” 

“And yet that old sinner will have the nerve to ask you 
to pay for establishing traditions, you see if he don’t,” 
laughed Walt. 

“Well, he can ask and be blowed !” was Phil's decided 
answer. 

“Hark ! Hear them yell ! You can’t hold off any 
longer !” said Walt, as they were hurrying across the big 
tent. “I never saw a crowd so dead set on anything! 
They’ll get ugly if we don’t humor them pretty quick, I 
fancy.” 

“I guess it is safe to bring him out now,” laughed the 
young showman. “Only Coon says he’s so weak that he’ll 
have to walk on crutches.” 

“Bring him in quick and save yourself trouble,” said 
Walt, anxiously. “You can hear for yourself how those 
Yahoos are yelling!” 

Almost as Walt spoke the audience caught sight of Phil, 
and the roar of their voices became positively deafening. 

“Bring on ther runaway!” they bawled at the top of 
their lungs. “Trot out that thar striped, yeller-backed 
critter !” 

“Give us er look at ther giant, the one that ketched the 


The Runaway Tiger. 307 

tiger! If he ain’t out purty quick we’ll go in and get 
him!” 

“He’s coming ! shouted Phil at the top of his lungs, then 
he turned and called out to one of the attendants : 

“Tell the giant to bring in the runaway tiger !” 


CHAPTER XLIII. 


THE GIANT — CONCLUSION. 

With the music of the band fairly splitting the air, Coon 
Thrasser appeared at the opening of the animal tent. 

As his great form towered up under the canvas all eyes 
were turned toward him, and then every person in the 
audience stared a little harder as they saw a great yellow 
tiger following close behind him. Coon Thrasser was per- 
forming a deed that had rarely been done before, and it 
was of such a dangerous nature that even those fearless 
mountaineers felt little shivers of horror. 

For Coon was actually leading the big monster of the 
jungle by a simple leash, exactly as a person would lead 
a poodle. 

Phil could readily have accounted for the tiger’s meek- 
ness if he had wished to, but he did not think it was wise 
to make any explanations. 

The fact was that the mountaineers had kept their word 
and fairly gorged the great beast during his stay on the 
mountains, and besides he was almost stupefied from the 
effects of so much laudanum. If the tiger could have had 
his way he would have lain down in the sawdust and gone 
to sleep, but the audience fortunately was not aware of the 
state of his feelings. 

The giant’s role seemed wonderful in their eyes, and as 
Phil had expected, he shared the honors with the tiger. 

Several women turned pale and gave hysterical screams, 


The Giant — Conclusion. 


309 


but they all leaned forward and craned their necks with 
curiosity as the giant and the tiger walked slowly across 
the arena. 

Then every one breathed a deep sigh of relief as a group 
of cowboys and keepers came into the ring, all armed with 
lassos and weapons in case the tiger should become 
vicious. When the crowd got its breath the tent shook 
with cheers, and the giant raised his hat and politely bowed 
his thanks. 

“Give us a speech, Mr. Rushington,” they yelled to Phil. 
“Tell us all about how he captured ther critter !” 

Our hero knew that the story had gone all over West 
Virginia, but he was not sure just how truthfully the mat- 
ter had been stated, so he seized the opportunity of giving 
them the actual details. There was a dead silence in the 
tent as he told them all about it — how Hank Doe and the 
“nigger” had wrecked his train, and how he had lost a 
valuable snake and a leopard. 

When the mountaineers heard his story they nearly went 
wild, and it was lucky for Hank Doe that he was safely in 
prison. 

“Oh, they wouldn’t do a thing to him just now, would 
they?” whispered Walt to Philips. “Gee! his neck would 
be stretched before he could say Jack Robinson, and I’m 
not so sure but what he deserves it !” 

“Rush has made lots of friends down here,” said 
Philips, softly. “Just watch them, Walt — they are fairly 
hanging on his words ! It proves that each and every class 
of man can admire another fellow’s bravery.” 

“Yes, and despise his meanness,” said Walt, glancing 


3io 


The Giant — Conclusion. 


sharply around. “I only hope they won’t break into the 
jail and lynch the poor devil.” 

“They won’t if Rush can help it. Listen,” said Philips, 
quickly. “Would you believe it, he is actually trying to 
excuse the rascals!” 

Phil had raised his voice and was talking earnestly, for 
he had seen at once that his words had excited them, and 
he was beginning to anticipate more trouble with the 
Governor. 

“Don’t be hard on him, men !” he cried, in his ringing 
voice. “I am as sure as I’m living that the fellow is crazy ! 
The law will take care of him, and that is all I care ! Of 
couse I am sorry to lose my leopard, but I’ve saved my 
tiger — thanks to the giant, whom you see before you !” 

There was another cheer for the giant, and then Coon 
led the tiger away, the great beast following at his heels 
as meekly as a kitten. 

“Waal, I’ll be gosh-derned if it be’n’t Coon Thrasser!” 
bawled a voice from the benches. 

The secret of the giant was out, and Phil waited to see 
how they would take it. 

Before he had time to feel anxious there was one wild 
whoop from his audience, then three rousing cheers were 
given for Coon, and a dozen voices were asking him how 
he liked the circus business. 

Coon made his escape, with the tiger close at his heels. 
He was the proudest man in West Virginia. 

After that there was no further effort to adhere to a pro- 
gramme — the mountaineers were running the performance 
to suit their own pleasure. 


The Giant — Conclusion. 


3ii 

Every act was applauded with such violent enthusiasm 
that our hero grew a little nervous over how his benches 
and canvas would stand the racket. 

“If they don’t pull the tent down over our heads, we’ll 
be lucky,” he whispered to Walt. “They are like a lot of 
boys on their first visit to a circus !” 

“We’ll make enough to pay damages, I guess,” said 
Walt, laughing. “Coon has turned out to be a ‘drawing 
card,’ and as for the tiger, he’s a Jim Dandy ‘boomer.’ 
Those fellows are in for a night of it, all right, and Heaven 
only knows what time we’ll get rid of them.” 

“The tent will be closed at eleven o’clock, as usual,” said 
Phil, decidedly. “They can’t expect me to tire out my 
performers.” 

“What will we give them for a round-up, Mr. Rush- 
ington?” asked Philips, coming up. “They’ve had every 
act on the programme a couple of times over. What do 
you say — shall we give them the battle royal ?” 

“I’ll go out and take a look at Ellen,” was Phil’s reply, 
“and meanwhile you can start the band on ‘Hail Colum- 
bia,’ and see how those enthusiastic lunatics will take it !” 

“All right,” said Philips, “but I know they won’t have 
it. The whole gang has been drinking moonshine all the 
evening, and they are getting unruly.” 

“Then they’ll have to be subdued,” said Phil, very de- 
cidedly, “and it will give a splendid chance to get square 
with the Governor.” 

“Rush ! Rush ! Come, quick !” yelled Walt, from the 
door of the big tent. Phil wheeled around, and fairly flew 
toward his chum. 


312 The Giant — Conclusion. 

“Those jays have gone luny! They won’t hear of our 
stopping the show! I’ve called on the police and the 
mayor, and they say they are powerless ; that an army of 
lunatics like that are too much for them to handle !” 

Phil set his teeth together hard and flew back into the 
ring, where Burt Wister was walking the tight rope for 
the third time that evening. 

The minute the crowd saw him they began calling him 
by name, and a dozen lustry voices ordered him to bring 
back the tiger. 

Our hero mounted one of the elephant’s tubs, so they 
could all see him clearly, and his voice rang out like a 
trumpet as he addressed them. 

“Now, gentlemen, we’ve got to quit !” he said, decidedly. 
“You all know what it means to be tired out, and I’m sure 
you don’t expect any more than your money’s worth.” 

This was very funny, inasmuch as half of the bawlers 
had not paid a cent, but were really enjoying the perform- 
ance on a complimentary ticket. 

“Come again when we come back to Hinton, and we’ll 
be glad to see you,” went on Phil, “but it is time to quit 
now, and we are going to do it this minute.” 

He waved his hand for the band to begin again, and 
then bowed gracefully to his exacting audience, and it was 
wonderful to see how quietly they dispersed after all their 
previous demonstrations. 

“You are a dandy, Rush! They mind you like chil- 
dren,” said Walt, as he watched them filing out of the en- 
trance. 

Some one jerked Phil’s coat tails just then, and as he 


The Giant — Conclusion. 313 

looked around quickly he saw the messenger boy grinning 
up at him. 

“I told you you needn’t worry, boss, and you ain’t got 
to,” he said, mysteriously. “I seen that same feller 
sneakin’ around the tent, and I got one of your men to give 
him a punchin’.” 

“Well, if you are not a strange kid,” said Phil, still 
puzzled. 

“I can explain about the youngster, boss,’ said one of 
the keepers, coming up. “The fellow that he pointed out 
was only the engineer of that freight train. You licked 
the conductor, and I finished the job for you.” 

“Much obliged,” said Phil, and then he looked for the 
boy, but the wearer of the blue uniform had quietly disap- 
peared. 

“A great night,” remarked Walt, “and one that I 
wouldn’t have missed for a fortune ! The escape of that 
tiger was a regular bonanza !” 

“Well, I wouldn’t have it happen again for all the show 
is worth,” said our hero, soberly. “That was the worst 
night I ever put in, without any exception.” 

A few words more and we will bring this tale to a close. 
We will meet Phil again in another story, entitled, “The 
Young Showman’s Triumph,” showing what he did in the 
future on the road. 

Early the next morning the circus train pulled out of 
the station with about half the inhabitants of the town 
watching its departure. 

The cars and cages had all been repaired, and were 
fairly shining with new paint, for the Mossman & Rush- 


The Giant — Conclusion. 


3H 


ington Circus and Hippodrome was off to fill another en- 
gagement. 

Only a little later Phil was obliged to return to Hinton 
to testify in his suit against Hank Doe, the train wrecker. 

There was no doubt in his mind that* the man was two^ 
thirds crazy, but the hot-blooded Virginians would not 
excuse him for that, for, in spite of Rushington’s efforts, 
there had been two or three attempts to break into the jail 
and lynch the culprit. 

So both the train wrecker and his accomplice received 
long sentences to State’s prison, and Phil was just as well 
pleased to know that they would be safely guarded in the 
future. 


* 




THE END. 


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